


You Force Me To See

by Angelphoenixwings14



Series: First I was Blind, and Now I See [2]
Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake Marriage, Gore, Slow Burn, Violence, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelphoenixwings14/pseuds/Angelphoenixwings14
Summary: After a very successful drug bust, Tim and Lucy's lives change forever.This is post episode 2x13, and then becomes Canon-Divergent.
Relationships: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Series: First I was Blind, and Now I See [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663783
Comments: 216
Kudos: 598





	1. Good Deeds Do Go Punished

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so... I took the 'undercover' trope to the next fucking level lmfao. This is partially inspired by Brooklyn 99's storyline where 2 of them have to go into witness protection, so here we are. Please let me know what you think!

“Tim. I need you to report to the station right now. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”

“Sir?”

“Now, Tim,” the quiet, urgent sound of Sergeant Grey’s voice rattled him awake quicker than anything. Suddenly, the sleep he’d been trying to rub out of his eyes was gone, and a cold chill prickled down his back. Tim got up from bed and quickly changed into a pair of jeans, before grabbing his wallet and keys and flying out the door. He reached the station in fifteen minutes, the station itself as scarcely populated as the roads had been at this time of night. 

When he made it up to Grey’s office, he stilled, eyes widening a little as he spotted Lucy standing in the room, along with someone Tim had never seen before. Lucy studied his face, the uncertainty in her own reflected back. It didn’t make either of them feel better about the situation as they came to stand together and looked to Grey. He let out a heavy breath, his lips pulled in an ambiguously regretful smile.

“Tim. Lucy. Thanks for coming in so quickly,” Sergeant Grey said politely, since it hadn’t been a request at all. “Shut the door.” Tim twisted back and flicked his hand into the door to push it closed. When he came to stand at attention before his commanding officer, Grey nodded toward the mystery man in the room with them. “This is Federal Agent Richards. He’s been working the Montgomery Crime Family case for the last year.”

“The Montgomery Crime Family? Isn’t that a mob based out of Baltimore?” Tim clarified, his brows furrowing in confusion. 

“It sure is,” Agent Richards said, his self-satisfied smile chiseled and approving. “Been flooding the streets with drugs and violence for the better part of a decade. Any time we take one hit man or supplier down, another pops right back up in their place.”

“Sir… all due respect, what does this have to do with us?” Lucy finally asked, her voice quiet and wavering enough that Tim glanced toward her. After all she’d endured over the last several months, he couldn’t blame her hesitation. Things had just gone back to normal after Caleb, she was a month away from graduating, and even he felt like an anvil was hovering over their head, waiting to drop. Grey and Richards glanced at one another, and their commanding officer gave a subtle nod. He turned his dark, sympathetic gaze back to them.

Sympathetic, not commanding.

“That drug bust you pulled yesterday? Turns out one of your guys was a Montgomery,” Gray said, handing a folder across the desk. Tim took it and flipped it open, Lucy crowding toward his arm to review the case file Richards helped explain.

“Not just any Montgomery. You see, the Montgomery Crime Family is run by two brothers, Lawrence and Hugo. The guy you busted yesterday was Kevin Montgomery, Hugo Montgomery’s son. He moved out here a few months ago to set up a west coast syndicate,” Richards explained to them.

“The evidence you two pulled on him will keep that from happening for the time being,” Grey affirmed, smiling proudly. Tim didn’t feel pride, however. A sudden lump built in his throat and sunk into his stomach with dread.

“The problem is this isn’t someone in middle management they can easily replace. This is an inner family member,” Richards said, his tone far too light for the news Tim had a feeling was about to be delivered. “ _Twice_ in the last decade have we managed to do that… and both times, the arresting officers ended up dead within forty-eight hours.” 

Tim’s heart sunk, and he glanced over at Lucy, her nervous gaze meeting his at the same time. He pursed his lips together, before he looked back to Richards. “No way that happens this time,” he said. Grey smiled at his typical bluster.

“That’s why you two are here, Officer Bradford. We’re not going to let that happen this time,” he promised.

“What exactly is the play here, Sir?” Lucy asked, her petite figure bouncing with her anxious energy.

“The Bureau’s building a case against the whole family. We’ve got some traction, and this arrest could be what helps us fast track our investigation. If we can get Kevin to flip on the rest of the family, we’ll have everything we need to take them down for good,” Richards promised, his rich voice as soothing as he could possibly make it. He glanced toward Grey briefly, before he took a breath and said, “Until then, we’d like to place you both in witness protection.”

Lucy balked and stammered, “S-sorry?” while Tim scoffed and fidgeted eerily.

“You’ve got to be joking,” he snapped.

“I wish this was a joke,” Grey placated, and somehow his level tone made it worse, like a final nail slamming into their coffin. “I wish I could say I had all the confidence in the world the LAPD could keep the two of you safe, but the fact of the matter is cops have already been killed by this family. With _no_ arrests for their deaths. So I’m not sure playing the odds here is the move we should make.” Both Tim and Lucy knew how much faith Grey had in his officers, so to hear him speak so practically about their limitations was sobering.

Tim swallowed thickly, his eyes lowering to the floor as he took a brief moment to drown in the weight of this. He glanced toward Lucy, saw the fear clear in her tension and the glaze in her eyes. He could hardly breathe himself, but he met their superior’s gazes and rather calmly asked, “Permission to be stationed together, Sir?” Grey almost laughed, but he kept his smile placid and nodded.

“That’s the idea.”


	2. Charades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Lucy learn what their lives are about to become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Two chapters in 2 days. I can't promise I'll be able to keep this momentum up, but all your support and interest really inspired me, so thanks so much for everyone reading/reviewing! You rock <3

Oh, she hated this. Lucy had put up with a lot of shit over the last six months, but this took the cake. They’d been rushed out of LA that night, unable to grab anything, unable to say goodbye. Her chest heaved for a good ten seconds as she tried to stifle her hysteria, and then it had been all _go, go, go_. 

The first thing they did was ruin her hair, and that _really_ stung Lucy the wrong way. They’d dyed it black and lopped it all off into a bob, and given her short, straight bangs that made her look a whole lot more ethnic. “This is racist,” she’d complained, immediately mourning the loss of her dark brown and caramel tones. She grimaced at how easy it was for her fingers to slip from her hair, just at the curve of her jaw.

Then, they’d made her cover up her neck tattoo. She’d gotten used to concealing a tattoo thanks to Caleb’s brand, but this one felt worse. It felt like she was erasing herself.

That’s exactly what this was.

They took pictures after, new IDs to be made with the new look. While the experts worked on completing their new identities, others finished their wardrobe and debriefs. Lucy glanced toward Tim as she slipped an olive coat over the plain black tank top they’d given her. She nearly cracked a smile watching him scowl, trying not to grimace further as he was forced to put a lumberjack patterned coat over his broad shoulders. 

“We’ll be placing you in a little suburb outside of Milwaukee called River Hills,” Agent Richards told them.

“ _Milwaukee,_ ” Tim guffawed, his eyes popping wide before they narrowed irritably. “Like _Wisconsin_?” He tugged on the jacket, which at least made a little more sense now. Agent Richards stared at him and gave an almost patronizing nod.

“Where did you think witness protection was going to place you? Maui?” Tim gave the agent a flat glare, but didn’t speak further. He tipped his chin up and stared elsewhere, like the solider he was, but also very much like the arrogant bastard who had decided this whole affair was stupid. Lucy really did crack a small smile, before her attention returned to the Agent, who further explained their situation. “The point is to get you off grid, somewhere remote enough no one’ll think to look or ask questions, but close enough to us we can keep an eye on you. We have a field office in Milwaukee, and you’ll be assigned a case manager, who’ll live in the neighborhood with you for an extra pair of eyes.”

A small, velvety box was handed off to Lucy by one of the staff next, an identical one being passed off to Tim. He suddenly looked a little green, but Lucy’s brows pinched in innocent confusion. “What’s this?” she huffed, before she popped the top up and gaped at the diamond twinkling back at her. Glinting brightly and perfectly cut, the impressive stone sat inside a simple silver band that Lucy found more captivating than she would’ve liked.

“Your covers,” Agent Richards said, while Tim struggled to swallow as he stared at the silver band staring up at him in taunt. Agent Richards feigned ignorance to his plight to explain, “You are now Charlie Miller, goes by Chuck. Owned a hardware store in Miami-“

“ _Miami_?!” Tim complained, the worsening story snapping him out of his horror for the moment. Agent Richards huffed at him, mildly amused by the continued whining.

“It’ll explain your tan,” he explained simply. “Anyway, you just learned your recently deceased grandfather left you his home in River Hills, so you’re moving up here with your wife, Jennifer.”

Despite the evidence in her hands, Lucy finally felt the panic thunder through her chest. Eyes blowing wide, she stuttered, “W-wife?!” She couldn’t even look at Tim. Instead, she wanted to disappear through the floorboards and never see the light of day again.

“Isn’t this… a little inappropriate?” Tim tried, for once speaking as carefully as he could, though the discomfort in his voice was obvious. He took being a TO more seriously than anyone, and this felt like a _wild_ breach of that sacred duty. Agent Richards smiled a little more sympathetically. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no better reason for a white man to move into the middle of nowhere with a young Asian woman,” he admitted, before briefly glancing toward Lucy and appeasing, “no offense, but… this is the story that’ll sell the easiest.” _Easiest._ What about this seemed easy? Lucy felt like her head was spinning, and she furrowed her brows as she continued to stare at the rings.

“You guys bought rings for this?” It seemed like a stupid detail to latch onto, but her brain couldn’t process anything else about this situation.

“Feds can put in a request for items we need at any time,” Agent Richards said. He looked between the two of them for a moment, giving them a moment to absorb everything they’d heard thus far, before he piled more on. “Once your IDs are done, you’ll be heading out with Ryan here. We have a small U-Haul with some furniture and effects that’ll take you both to River Hills. Some details have been mapped out for you in the case files you’ll be receiving shortly, but the rest you two can work out amongst yourselves. Whatever’ll help you blend in and make peace with your identities-“

He continued giving instructions and explanations, but Lucy couldn’t hear it anymore. Her ears felt clogged, or maybe they were ringing, the panicked blood rushing through her veins making everything feel like slow motion. Lucy glanced toward Tim, and found his wide, haunted eyes staring back at her. 

Except now they were Chuck and Jen Miller.

Great.


	3. River Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Lucy get to see their new lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all your reviews/support! I know I didn't get to answer everyone, but you don't know what all your comments/feedback mean to me <3 This fandom rocks, and I'm so happy to be contributing :D

The U-Haul arrived in River Hills a little after 4am, late enough to not draw the neighborhood’s attention, but early enough someone had the possibility of spotting their presence at some point. Lucy peered out the window before opening the truck door and sliding out of her seat. As her boots plopped to the wet blacktop, her brows lifted at the rustic ranch-style house before them. 

Rich, dark wood made up most of the exterior, save for the stone chimney near the center of the house. The windowpanes were all white and freshly done, the pretty, dissected windows blocked out by thick curtains drawn shut within. An overhang covered the front door, polished stone steps leading up to the house. “Wow,” Lucy murmured, her brows furrowed to mute her amazement. This was a hell of a lot nicer than her apartment in LA, and she glanced toward Tim to see his reaction.

Owning a ranch-style house of his own, he didn’t pay the house much mind at first. He glanced around the suburb, taking stock of the ample space between houses, the nice SUVs stationed in the driveways of impressive two-story houses and fancier ranch-style homes than their own. “This is a wealthy neighborhood,” Tim noted, glancing back toward their driver, Ryan. He opened the back of the truck before nodding to the statement.

“Houses like this go for cheaper up here, but yeah… it’s wealthy enough it should be quiet for you both,” he assured, before he glanced their way and grinned, “less chance for you to find your way into trouble.” Lucy almost laughed, especially when she glanced toward Tim’s irritable expression. Ryan had a point though. They hadn’t stopped being cops just because their IDs changed; they were perhaps more drawn to danger than the criminals the FBI placed were. 

Tim hopped into the truck after Ryan to help unload the small collection of furniture they’d brought. Lucy took the house key and moved up to the front door to open it for them. She staggered to a stop once she flicked the light on and looked around, an involuntary, “Whoa,” escaping her. This place was _much_ nicer than her apartment. Polished wood every which way, nicely painted walls, new appliances. She actually huffed, and muttered to herself, “Who knew witness protection was so luxurious.”

She stepped aside, holding the door while Ryan and Tim brought in a couch, and a sandalwood dining table after that. A bookshelf, a few lamps and end tables came in after that, but Lucy realized as she looked through the home, the items moved were mostly light and for show. The house already had a furnished, spacious master bedroom with a king sized bed, dresser, and TV mounted on top. Another guest room and an office were already furnished in the house, as well as a second sitting room to the side of the house. Lucy looked around the white, flowery furniture set and huffed.

 _Tim is gonna love this,_ she thought facetiously. An amused smile lingered on her lips as she doubled back toward the main living room, where Tim and Ryan were setting a coffee table down before the new couch, a TV already mounted to the wall before it. The fireplace sat cozily within the stone pillar that protruded out the exterior of the house, making the otherwise crisp, borderline modern wooden room look a bit more rustic. Puffing out a breath, Tim glanced around and came to the same conclusion Lucy had.

“This place is pretty nice…” he admitted slowly, and somewhat suspiciously as he looked toward Ryan. The plain-clothed agent pursed his lips at them in a rueful smile, shrugging noncommittally. 

“You guys did a great service. Might as well make it comfortable.” He left them to savor the minor sting of that slap, the reminder that despite their hard, _good_ work, they’d lost everything and everyone they both cared about for the foreseeable future. When Lucy glanced toward Tim again, she found him staring at her. She could see the gloom in his eyes, but he kept his face as stoic and unreadable as ever. A weight settled between them, stifling and suffocating enough that they both tipped toward the precipice of breaking through the silence.

Ryan returned with the last few boxes for them, full of clothes and some household needs, like plates and decorations. He left them to their own faculties then, his parting instruction being, “You two take some time to unpack and process. Your case manager will be in touch later today.” Then, they were on their own.

Lucy crouched and opened the first box, but paused as soon as she saw the neatly stacked clothes chosen for their identities. “Isn’t this kind of… cruel? Making us unpack and organize shit that isn’t even ours.” 

“It looks more natural to the neighborhood, lets us get a taste for the environment… and maybe makes this a little less out of our control,” Tim told her, his voice straining toward the end. She looked up at him, her own expression softening, but he’d already turned away, a random cup in his hand from another box. “Besides… this shit _is_ ours now,” he muttered as an afterthought, setting the cup back where he’d retrieved it.

“I bet you wish you’d taken that sergeant’s position, huh,” Lucy huffed lamely, her eyes scanning the floor while Tim picked up the box full of kitchenware. He paused as he set the cardboard against his side to stare down at her.

“I’ll never regret taking down a bad guy. That Montgomery guy was going to start a whole chapter of bad in our city. If this is the price we pay for that, so be it.” She watched him leave, both in awe of his resolve and heartbroken for them both. She bowed her head back to her own box of clothes and willed herself to do something with it when she heard a loud clatter in the kitchen, plates rattling together as Tim plopped his box down on a counter.

She couldn’t.

Eyes welling, she lifted from her spot on the ground and followed Tim into the kitchen. “I can’t just be okay with this,” she stated, her voice rattling a little. She trusted Tim more than possibly anyone in the world, but showing certain sides of herself could be especially scary with him. Vulnerability was one of them, despite how much they’d been through together; there was just no telling how he’d react to it sometimes. “We just had to disappear in the middle of the night! No notice, no goodbyes. And we have _no idea_ when we might be able to return, to move up ranks… o-or see Nolan, and Jackson, or Lopez again!”

“I know, Boot,” Tim said quietly, his hands clamping down on both sides of her biceps. She hadn’t realized she’d started shaking, but noticed then how her voice had been cracking and vision blurring with tears she still struggled to hold back. Sucking in a breath, she reached up to preemptively brush at her eye, Tim’s palms burning their imprint onto her skin. 

“You’re not gonna be able to call me that anymore,” she reminded, nearly hiccupping as she tried to quiet her storm of emotions.

“I can in private, Boot,” he jibed flatly, causing her to huff.

“What do you think they told the others?” Lucy asked, unable to help herself from wondering how the rest of the force - of their family and friends, and _oh God, Rachel_ – were handling this. She felt Tim’s fingers twitch against her skin, watched him stiffen before her, and met his stony expression with need and dread in her own. “What?” she asked, before she quickly pressed, “Just tell me.” He hesitated, and nearly stepped away from her. “Tim,” she pleaded, earning a weary sigh from him.

“I don’t know, okay? Not for certain,” he stipulated at first, holding her gaze just to make sure she understood that before he reluctantly admitted, “but I could guess. They need some way to wipe us off the map, and telling anyone we know the truth about where we are puts them, _and us_ in danger. They could make up a story about us traveling, put in some false leads. Those can be tracked down and burned out though, so the most effective way to secure our secrecy would be to-“

“Fake our deaths,” Lucy finished, her heart sinking. She’d known. She’d wanted him to convince her she was crazy, but she knew. His rueful expression made her face the truth. Lashes fluttering, she fought against her tears again and nodded, her head bowing to stare at the blank cotton of his white T-shirt. 

“Look on the bright side,” Tim said, shocking Lucy into meeting his gaze again. This had to be a miracle, only he smirked slyly and ruined the potential moment by saying, “This haircut of yours is a priceless sight.” He swatted at the edge of her cropped locks, and she guffawed as they tickled at her jawline. She clapped her hand against his arm while he shuffled away, meager chuckles escaping them both. And just like that, things felt marginally better. 

~*~

They spent the morning unpacking, and the strangest feeling buzzed in Lucy’s veins the whole time. The domesticity of setting cups and clothes away, how they moved around one another in the open space, not talking yet hyperaware of every movement and glance from the other. Tim left Lucy the honor of placing out the canvas photos and weird ornamental statues they’d been given. She finally huffed, the incredulity of the whole affair finally getting to her.

“We should probably come up with stories for all these,” she called to Tim, who was pouring a glass of water for himself in the kitchen.

“You liked them and bought them, end of story,” he noted absently. She rolled her eyes and set the rearing horse statue down on one of the bookcase’s shelves. The doorbell rang as she was adjusting its rotation, drawing her and Tim’s eyes toward the front door sharply. “You think that’s the case manager?” Lucy asked, twisting around further to watch as he neared the windows. His expression steeled at what – rather _who_ \- he peeked at.

“Doubt it,” he grumbled, before moving for the front door. Lucy followed him, curious and alert. She peered over his shoulder as he opened the door to reveal an older couple standing on the other side, a thermos in the aquiline man’s hand while his slightly portly wife held up a saran-wrapped quiche. 

“Surprise!” the women cheered, smiling so brightly that both Tim and Lucy offered tense mockeries of their own grins. “We’re your neighbors from next door. I’m Sue, and this is Larry, and we saw your truck this morning. Figured you two wouldn’t have anything to eat this fine morning, so we brought you some coffee and breakfast.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” Tim admitted, a slightly forced chuckle escaping him as he accepted the coffee thermos. Lucy stepped forward to accept the quiche, her head nodding a little nervously. Her heart thundered, and only quickened when Tim openly admitted, “I’m Chuck, and this is my wife, Jen.” As he drew the thermos back, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, tugging her toward his side comfortably.

They hadn’t really touched since that day in her apartment, both too aware to let that slip up happen again. Now, she could feel how hard his oblique muscles were, how thick his bicep was pressing against her neck and shoulders. His warmth made her own skin burn to life again, and she felt the heat sting up into her cheeks. It took every ‘keep calm cop’ skill she’d built up over the last year to prevent her eyes from widening as Sue crooned, “Oh, don’t you two just make the sweetest couple! Don’t they, Larry?”

“Jesus, Sue,” Larry chuckled, shaking his head as he looked upon his wife fondly. “You’ll have to forgive her. Been awhile since we’ve had some fresh blood in the neighborhood,” he admitted kindly, though Lucy’s instincts latched onto his verbiage harder than they possibly should’ve.

“Oh, Carrie and her husband are throwing a barbecue this weekend, you two should come, meet the town!”

“Ohhhh, that sounds lovely,” Lucy admitted, her voice wavering a little. She mustered a timid smile, before she nudged the quiche up and added sweetly, “And thank you, for the breakfast.”

“We’ll come by Saturday to scoop you two up,” Larry said, before he tugged on his wife’s arm, “now, come on now, Sue. Lets let these two finish getting settled in.” With a cheery smile, she waved at the two of them, forcing Tim and Lucy to wave back in the most Stepford way they could. The second they closed the door, Tim dropped his arm from Lucy’s shoulders. She ignored the way she suddenly felt cold to rush toward the window with him to peer out after Larry and Sue.

“Jesus, they had to pick the nosiest neighbors in town to put us next to?” Lucy griped, leaning to try and keep following the couple, until Tim let the blinds fall closed. She glanced up at him and asked, “What do you think? Should we go to the barbecue with them?”

“Maybe. Might be a good way to get a pulse on the town… we should bring it up with our case manager today though,” he reasoned, eyes befalling the quiche. Fresh baked and still warm, his stomach growled suddenly. Their eyes locked, and he pursed his lips irritably while Lucy laughed.

“Good thing we unpacked all those plates,” she teased, earning an eye roll from her TO... slash fake husband.


	4. The Barbecue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy and Tim meet some of the town folk, and put themselves in a slightly awkward situation.

Their case manager had cleared them for the barbecue after going through a few rules with them, since it _was_ a good way to get to know the town. And seeing as the two of them would have to start working jobs for their covers soon, it was best they knew who was a local versus not. So, that Saturday, Larry and Sue came to collect them, and the four of them walked down the block toward an adjacent cul de sac. 

“You’ll like Carrie and Bill,” Sue promised them, a pep in her shuffling steps as she lead the way. Lucy smiled, unable to help how endearing she found the older lady. She could tell Tim’s patience was wearing thin, however. His shoulders were tensed and hunched beneath the thin cotton of his dark gray Henley, hands stuffed into his dark blue jeans in an obvious depiction of tension. Her gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, the fitted material complimenting his musculature a little _too_ well. 

When she felt her gaze lingering at his collar, where the few buttons of the shirt had been left open to tease at the tanned flesh beneath, Lucy averted her eyes and tried to quell the hot sting in her cheeks. Sue was still chattering on about their neighbors, and she could only half bring herself to listen until they arrived. Both Tim and Lucy surveyed the house immediately, a grand three-story carriage house with blue and black paint, and a tall wooden fence surrounding the backyard, where music and chatter already echoed from.

They headed straight for the gate, which was unlocked. The backyard had lush grass, a nicely paved patio area with a shiny silver grill already heating up. Lawn chairs with plush gray cushions scattered the area, though everyone stood around, beers in hand as they engaged in conversation. They all took in the newcomers, and a string of introductions suddenly fired off. Lucy’d never admit to Tim how many of those names she was likely to forget until a second introduction (that was just bad policing), but the onslaught ended once Sue excitably introduced them to everyone else. 

“This is Chuck and Jen Miller. They moved into that lovely little ranch house next to us.”

“That right?” 

“That’s right. It was my grandfather’s,” Tim piped up. Lucy watched him flash a convincing smile as he fibbed, “He rented it out for several years, but he passed away recently and left the property to me. And… well.” Pausing, he glanced toward Lucy and let that smile shine, the twinkle in his eyes stealing Lucy’s breath away. “Jen and I’ve wanted to own a place like this for awhile.” Lucy’s heart started pounding. Her cheeks grew hot once again, but she managed to smile weakly in response.

“You’re from Miami?” someone else asked, proving rumors about the two had already started spreading. Tim nodded.

“That’s right.”

“Must be hard, livin’ in a city like that.”

“It’s busy, that’s for sure,” Lucy finally interjected, though unfortunately felt no less awkward than before.

“And what do you two do?” another middle-aged man asked. He had a crisp polo shirt and slacks on, a well-manicured haircut for his graying head. Business type, if Lucy had to guess, and clearly the unspoken town investigator. He could be the annoying kind of trouble.

“I owned a hardware store – gonna open one up here in soon,” Tim explained, piquing another man’s attention. 

“Oh. You takin’ over the old, closed-down general store up the road?”

“That’s right.”

“Neat-o.”

“And what about you, dear?” Carrie asked, her curly perm bouncing around her head as she rested her toned arm against her husband’s back while he stood at the grill. 

“Bartender,” Lucy admitted, and she tried to ignore the somewhat sympathetic look Tim gave her. No, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about the career change up, but she understood the need. Bartending was an easy way to keep a pulse on the town, and their case manager had given her the perfect spot to still remain unimposing. “I was going to apply at the pub up on Brown Deer Road.”

“Oh, I love that place,” Bill cheered, waving a grill turner around. He cast a glance toward Lucy, her black hair and tanned skin a stark contrast to the man’s snowy features, from his skin tone to his white hair. His eyes roved over her in a somewhat uncomfortable way, and Lucy fought not to squirm. She was still a little sensitive to leers after Caleb’s assault. 

She wasn’t the only one. Tim’s eyes narrowed, and prompted him to redirect the conversation with, “Speaking of brews, you got any?”

“Ah, yeah. There’s beers in the cooler,” Bill shared, waving his turner toward where the cooler sat. Smile growing a little, Tim turned toward Lucy.

“Mind grabbing me one, Honey?” Lucy stilled, lips parting in shock as Tim lifted his brows, almost in challenge. Once she got past the dazzling effect of his charming smile, her eyes narrowed. She realized what he was doing, capitalizing on the situation in such a dirty way to make her do what he wanted. Lips pursing, she tipped her head playfully and bounced on the balls of her feet to coyly bring them closer together.

“Don’t get used to this,” she teased, boldly swiping her index finger against the tip of his nose. Her jerked back reflexively while she swiveled around on the balls of her feet and sauntered off. Tim huffed, and his blue eyes lingered on the stretch of her tight jeans – really, it became impossible to tear his eyes away when Lucy bowed over the cooler to grab a couple beers - until he heard a couple of the older women cooing at them.

“So nice to see young love,” Carrie schmoozed, chuckling a little as she pushed up from Bill’s back. She tapped him between the shoulders while teasing, “Remember when we were that rambunctious?”

“No.”

Bill was ignored while the old bats flocked over, and Sue popped the question, “How long have you two been married?”

“About a year,” Tim shared, because it was easier to remember the day they’d started riding together than any other made up one. He glanced around at the trio of women; they were a lot scarier in a gaggle, which made him forever grateful when Lucy returned with his beer. He almost griped at her _took you long enough_ in his old, T.O.-esque way, but they were supposed to be acting like some love-struck newly weds. Christ.

He guzzled back several mouthfuls of his beer. Lucy sipped hers more slowly, her eyes flickering over his tensing figure multiple times. “Hey. Uh, so what is there to do around here for fun?” Lucy asked, steering the women toward a much safer (and more useful) subject to gossip about. Tim let out a breath, and glanced toward Lucy in subtle gratitude. Smirking a little, she bumped her shoulder against his, and then kind of just… lingered there.

Why not? 

They were supposed to be married, and Lucy was naturally a physically affectionate person. Yes, the brush of his Henley, and the heat of his body was arguable torture as it tickled against her skin. Her throat went a little dry as she longed for him to wrap his arm around her, but she combatted that by sipping down her beer while they both half-listened through multiple different conversations. Their case manager was right; it was a good way to get to know the town. Small towns always had a lot of gossip, but Ryan was right; River Hills didn’t have the kind of trouble that’d endanger them.

That didn’t stop the cops from still looking for it, however. The circumstances they’d been brought here under had them both on edge, so the slightest curiosities drew their eyes even more intensely than before.

When Tim did finally wrap his arm around her waist and drag her tightly into his side, it was only so he could tip his lips near her ear and murmur, “Goatee, ten o’clock.” Lucy blinked, willing her heartbeat to stay under control as Tim’s breath ghosted against her cheek. It didn’t help to cool her heated flesh at all, but she lingered against him for another moment anyway. Her hand touched to his firm chest, and if a secretive smile flickered across her lips, it only helped sell their lie even more.

She did finally tip her head around, and took a swig of her beer while she scanned the area. The man in question, a dark goatee coating his chin, was staring right at her, unblinking. When her dark eyes lingered on him, he finally turned away, and Lucy’s spidey-senses started tingling. She took note of his stocky build, and the tattoo of a scorpion he had on his forearm. He turned and headed for the gate. Lucy twisted around to look up at Tim, who straightened a little as he watched the man march off. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” Tim asked, looking toward Bill and Carrie.

“Go in through the kitchen here, second door on your left,” Carrie shared, pointing in the direction.

“Do you have a second one?” Lucy called, huffing nervously as she held her beer up and wiggled it. “These things go through me quick.” Carrie smiled placatingly, and told her about a second one toward the end of the house. They both went inside together, and immediately headed for the windows.

“Should we follow him?” Lucy asked quietly.

“No. We have no reason to yet, but see if you can spot where he’s headed… if it’s a vehicle we can keep track of,” Tim suggested, his eyes already spotting their shady character. The two peered through one of the ground floor windows through cracks in the thin blinds until Tim spotted the truck. “Got it. Blue Chevy Colorado. License plate TARDYZ. Boom,” he recited triumphantly, before he realized what he’d just read off. Lip curling, his head rolled in disgust as he complained, “Really?” 

“Got it,” Lucy repeated, stowing the phone where she’d typed down the details into a note. She slid it into her back pocket, and was about to pull around from the window when she heard someone enter the kitchen. When she heard their footsteps drawing closer, she panicked. Twisting toward Tim, she shoved his chest harder than she meant to. He barely finished barking out an indignant _hey_ as he fell back onto a plush, old flowery couch, when Lucy leapt on top of him with an airy giggle.

His eyes widened to saucers, the blue of his irises diminishing as Lucy’s petite, curvy figured registered against his body. The weight of her sunk in against his abs and thighs, and he suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands until Lucy jabbed her fingers into his oblique muscles. A breath puffed up his cheeks as he fought not to let out a laugh or holler, and his hands clamped down around her forearms to try and get her to stop, because if he bucked up against her, with her breasts pressing into his flexed abs and her stomach smothering his dick… he couldn’t promise he’d be able to contain his reaction.

He could hardly contain it now, and when his startled attention turned toward an audience member, that only became far more difficult.

He couldn’t breathe, expression still gaping while Lucy feigned ignorance and giggled again. Carrie smiled at them, her arms crossing as she leaned against the living room’s entryway. Lucy finally let up, turning toward their hostess with a deceptively innocent face. “O-oh, sorry!” she chirped, popping up from the couch and immediately gripping the hem of her top to tug down her navel. Tim swallowed roughly as he ignored the inch of flesh he’d seen above her pant line as he straightened into a seat. He took a moment to sit and steel his nerves while Lucy shared, “We were just messing around.”

Carrie chuckled at them, low and sultry. “No need to apologize, dear. I understand. I wouldn’t keep my hands to myself either,” she teased, her hazel eyes flickering toward Tim briefly before she sauntered off with a wave. Tim blew out a breath. His body felt on fire, and he couldn’t quite make his brain work. 

Lucy couldn’t bring herself to look at him, and she cleared her throat before claiming, “We should get out of here. Finish what we started.” Tim lifted his gaze to find her looking at him. For a second, his mind went somewhere it _really_ shouldn’t have - of pushing her shirt up higher instead of down, and making her the breathless one – but then he realized the innuendo was meant for Carrie, should she still be near, and she was really talking about their suspect character. Right.

“Yeah. Okay,” Tim mumbled, his head tilting a little as he rubbed his jawline. He missed the way Lucy’s eyes flickered over him, too busy concentrating on lifting with precise slowness, just to make sure his blood didn’t start rushing to the wrong places. Once he felt steady on his feet, he followed Lucy outside to say their goodbyes.


	5. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Lucy try to manage their new, mundane life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo! I wanted to get everyone some more Chenford action during this 2 week hiatus. Hopefully this helps to appease some of our ache waiting for this supposedly 'mind-blowing' episode coming up.
> 
> Again, thanks to everyone reading and leaving kudos/comments. It always makes my day <3

Tim was… _pissed_. Two weeks in, and this arrangement felt like Hell. He hated the pickup truck the Bureau had given them for a vehicle, because it just made him miss his own. The hardware store was all set up, and he felt like his soul was rotting away every day he had to sit on his ass at the counter, and help the old folk figure out the difference between a socket wrench and a plier. Everyone in town was nice enough, and he knew enough about his new ‘career’ to get by, but it certainly left a _lot_ to be desired for.

And purpose fulfillment wasn’t the only thing he desired.

Ever since that stupid couch incident, he couldn’t stop dreaming about Lucy. She plagued his daydreams when he grew bored enough at work to claw his eyes out, and she woke him up at night, his skin clammy from the heated nature of his fantasies. He was ashamed to admit (even to himself) how many mornings he’d jerked off in the shower just to relieve some of the tension. It didn’t help half as much as he would’ve liked, so he tried other things.

Running before dawn even cracked through the skies. Doing a few reps with the dumbbells he’d bought and stored in his room. Simple fitness drills he could do in the cramped space to keep his physique. Nothing really worked as well as he hoped, and it left his mouth soured by frustration. The only silver lining really (and it was a piss poor one at that) was that he wasn’t alone.

Lucy had her own problems to deal with. She wore the detriment of their situation more openly than he did, and every time he caught her forlorn expression, he felt compelled to address it. He _didn’t_ , because he really had no comfort to offer her, but he wanted to. She soldiered on though, went to the bar she now worked at with a happy smile and a kind ear to listen to other people’s troubles. Her psychology degree served her well in the environment, but she preferred the way she used to serve her community.

Two weeks felt like a lifetime, and when they met their case manager, they didn’t receive the best of news. “Kevin’s being… difficult,” their case manager, Morgan, explained. “We’re still working out the details of a plea bargain with him, and Richards’ team is working diligently to get it done. We’re hopeful it might only be a few more months, at most.”

“ _Months_?” Tim guffawed, brows shooting toward his hairline.

“ _At most_ ,” Morgan defended, her stern brow growing a little harder as she willed him to behave with her rigid demeanor. “In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. The covers are secure, and the Montgomery family seems to have accepted your deceased status. You should remain in the clear until we get this all sorted away.”

Except that Tim was going to blow a gasket if things progressed on the way they were. He waited for Lucy to step outside before he put in a request with Morgan that wouldn’t be refused. Thankfully, she was willing to oblige him, though with the stipulation that it stayed indoors. _Obviously_ , he thought, but didn’t say, smartly shutting his mouth and nodding his gratitude. A few days later, his requested delivery arrived at the door. 

Lucy came in as he shoved the couch and coffee table into the walls of the living room. Dark eyes flickered over him curiously, before she huffed and asked, “What are you doing?” He answered her by letting the home martial arts mat he’d requested flop against the hardwood floor. Lucy startled a little, her brows lifting while Tim kicked the blue roll-up mat out to sprawl along the open space. 

“We’re sparring today, Boot,” he announced, brushing his foot along the plush surface to smooth it out as much as possible.

Lucy scoffed her disbelief and asked, “Excuse me?” Irritated by her lack of immediate acceptance of this idea, he straightened up and faced her with a blaze in his eyes.

“We’re going to get back to the force eventually, and when we do, we have to be in tip top shape, ready to jump right back into the line of duty,” he dictated, using every ounce of T.O. superiority he had. Pointing toward the mat, he further declared, “This is so I can make sure you aren’t losing your edge.” Besides, it was a good way to remind them of who they were.

A good way to remember what their boundaries were supposed to be.

Or so he thought.

Lucy blinked, her shoulders tensing a little at the sudden shift. She mulled it over for a moment, before she nodded, her whole body conceding with a languid bounce. “Okay,” she muttered, before she retreated to her room. She used the smaller one across the hall, having insisted Tim use the master bedroom. She switched into a sports bra and a pair of leggings, and pulled a somewhat loose, long tee overhead to make the outfit a little more modest.

Tim still had a hard time tearing his eyes away from her once she re-entered the room, which only renewed his irritation. “Boxing tape is in there,” he instructed, pointing toward the second box he’d received. Lucy bent over to retrieve it and wrap her hands up, Tim’s already having been done while she changed. Once she finished, she joined him on the mat. Her toes flexed as she touched to the squishy, slightly sticky material. She’d missed the feel of a gym mat, and felt her shoulders square a little more readily.

They squared off with one another, taking up their trained grappling stances. Lucy’s heart started to pound. She’d never trained with Tim like _this_ before, choosing to lean on her fellow rookies, or Harper for that matter, who was far closer to her size. Her eyes flickered over his swaying figure, his patience uncanny. Blowing out a breath, she moved for the assault, testing his defenses with a simple jab. He batted it away effortlessly, but she quickly retaliated with a one-two combo. Again, he parried and danced back on surprisingly light feet.

She smirked, unsurprised and impressed all the same. He jabbed toward her to check her own block time, which appeased his standards, and tried to trip her up with a surprise knee to her side. Her reflexes proved quick when she twisted her arm down and knocked him away. “At least you didn’t forget everything,” he jibed to hide how impressed he was. She rolled her eyes, but he could still detect the smile trying to quirk her lips. He nearly smiled back, but their spar finally picked up.

They traded blows and blocks, finding a rhythm that helped them both work their idle bodies and assured no real harm so long as they remained careful. Lucy finally made a mistake, her arm extending too far through a jab. Tim took the opportunity to spin her, his arm hooking around her neck to catch her in a chokehold. They’d both worked up a sweat by that point, the heat radiating off them almost unbearable.

“Pretty sloppy, Boot,” he goaded her. She grunted, and then twisted against his arm, ducking her weight toward his curled fist where his grip was weakest. As he started to lose his hold, she ducked her shoulder and shoved at his core, tipping them both away from one another. Amazed, he actually staggered to a stop and huffed. “Where’d you learn that?” Lucy rolled her shoulders while she brought her fists up again.

“Harper gave me a self-defense class,” she puffed. Tim grunted, unsure how he felt about that as a whole. They started up again, the same fervor driving their movements as they tried to out-do the other. More seasoned, Tim again got his hands around Lucy’s shoulders, and dragged her back over his thigh to trip her and flatten her against the mat. She flopped down with a harsh grunt, her jaw clenching as Tim chuckled above her.

With a heaving breath, she pushed herself up and went for him again, their spar deteriorating into a series of grapples and evasions. Tim started to get frustrated with how slippery she was (and not just from the sweat glazing them both), and finally threw his weight at her. His arm hooked around her as they twisted over, falling to the mat gracelessly. They rolled over one another once, before Tim finally managed to pin Lucy down, his legs straddling her stomach, and hers stuck behind him. His hands gripped at her shoulders to steady them both, their chests heaving.

He finally chuckled. “Well. No offense to Harper, but I’d say you could use another lesson,” he teased, an arrogant smirk threatening to grace his face. Lucy struck before it could fully take form, her hands locking around one of his arms while she twisted her hips and bucked him off to the side, rolling herself atop him… and between his legs.

Shocked, he blinked up at the ceiling, before his eyes darted down to her as she held his wrists down near his hips with her fading strength. She panted heavily, weight threatening to sag against him. Wearily, her dark eyes flickered over his face before she growled, “I think I’m doing just fine.” He couldn’t think to argue. Brows lifted, he watched her carefully for a moment, amazed by her strength and awed by her… everything. Her wit and cunning, the way her cropped hair clung to her flushed cheeks, how her dark eyes glistened as she searched his face so softly.

His cock twitched.

_No. No. No, no, no._

His breath hitched, body stiffening beneath her. She seemed to realize she’d lingered against his thigh for too long, and straightened up herself. “I should… go shower,” she muttered, tipping back to sit on her calves. 

“Yeah,” Tim agreed, his voice a little hoarser than he wanted. Clearing his throat, he pushed up onto his elbows and noticed Lucy looking at the mat. He tipped his head and promised, “I’ll clean up.” She flashed him a smile, but retreated swiftly, her own heart hammering in her ears as she hastily stripped the tape from her hands. Once she was gone, Tim blew a raspberry out his lips and collapsed back to the mat. He rubbed his forehead wearily as he stared at the ceiling, his head spinning over one question without an answer.

How the hell did he let himself fall for his damn rookie?


	6. The Price of Sour Apple Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Lucy have to face a consequence of their new lives, and it threatens to create a bit of a rut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be twice as long but I'm splitting it up because I'm tired and am struggling through the second part. Hopefully this first part is good enough to tide y'all over T_T

Things seemed to spike for them in two-week increments. They’d found a precarious rhythm to their new lives, were growing used to the mind-numbing effects of the mundaneness of it all. Tim made breakfast, leaving a plate for Lucy before he drove to his hardware store. When he got home, a plate for dinner waited for him from Lucy’s late lunch she made before heading to her shift at the bar. She walked there in the afternoon, but he always picked her up at the end of her shift around 10. They worked as cordial roommates, and everything was… fine.

Until it wasn’t.

A month into their witness protection, on their only joined weekend day, Tim found Lucy shriveled up. Her knees were curled into her chest, arms hooked around her shins as she sat on the couch. Chin tipped to her knees, she stared at the floor, an obvious glaze of tears brightening her dark eyes. “Luce?” he called. He didn’t know when or how he’d started calling her that, but it had slipped out a few times now in the secrecy of their home. 

Brows furrowing, he stalked nearer, and watched her curl in on herself tighter. Pausing, he watched her take a deep breath and tilt her face away a little, trying to steel herself to strengthen before him. She just couldn’t this time.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing,” she croaked, brushing a hasty knuckle beneath her eye. She took a breath and swallowed. “I just-“ she stopped, still unable to look at him. Concerned, he moved closer, easing himself into a seat beside her on the couch. His proximity, for whatever reason, made her crack. Her face contorted with her agony, the tears welling up thicker than before. “I should’ve graduated today.”

The words were barely a whisper, but they cracked against Tim’s skull like a sack of bricks. She would’ve finished her probationary year and moved on to being a full-fledged cop today, just as Jackson and Nolan probably were… without her. His heart sank as readily as hers stung. He’d been a cop for a long time, and while his plans for sergeant were put on hold for awhile, he’d still accomplished a lot in his career.

Lucy had as well. Her year thus far as a rookie had been eventful, to say the least. Of all the rookies he’d trained (and there had been _a lot_ ), she was by far the most exceptional. She had the heart, intelligence, and drive, and with what had been thrown at them in their time riding together, she had more experience than she thought. 

It was different, though.

It was different to be recognized as a peer instead of a rookie, to have your own shop and manage your own day. Surviving the probationary year was the last hurdle in becoming a cop, and it had been robbed from her. She had to watch it pass her by, knowing her peers were moving on without her somewhere out there. All because she’d done her job right. 

For a moment, Tim was angry for her, angry for them both, but then he glanced over at her and watched her still trying to rein her heartbreak in. Shoulders sagging, he reached an arm out and carefully touched her back. She flinched initially, her shoulders trembling under the weight of it all. He curled his arm around her and drew her toward him, cradling her into his side to carry part of that burden.

A sob finally choked out of her, and she smothered her face with one hand while the rest of her crumpled against him. His heart broke, and he closed his eyes as he tipped his chin atop her head, his thumb idly stroking against the edge of her jaw. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. It wasn’t much of a comfort, but he held her for as long as she needed, and never once complained about how her tears soaked into his shirt.

~*~

They didn’t speak about that night. They limped on in the same manner they had, albeit maybe a little more gloomily than before. Their case manager tried to keep their spirits up, but neither could manage much enthusiasm for the ever-ambiguous _soon_.

Another two weeks, and Tim needed a change. He went to pick Lucy up that Friday night, but headed inside the bar instead of staying out in the car. He watched her set a beer down on the bar counter for their local mailman, a rag thrown over her shoulder and hands collecting around forgotten glasses. A smile quirked his lips as he stopped at the edge of the counter, fingers curling around the aged wood. Her attention turned toward him, lips parted to tell him something like ‘ _just a minute,_ ’ before she registered it was him.

“Oh, hey,” she called, her expression immediately brightening. His dazzling smile brought a small one to reflect across her own lips. “What are you doing in here?” 

“I can’t come in and say hello to the missus?” Tim teased, tipping his head almost innocently. Brows lifting, Lucy huffed at him while the mailman pointed one podgy finger at Tim.

“Lucky man, that is,” he complimented, winking harmlessly at Lucy.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Tim agreed, causing Lucy’s heart to stutter and her cheeks to flush. She rolled her eyes, and pointed her own finger up from one of the glasses.

“Behave, you two,” she warned, before she scampered off to get the glasses cleaned. Tim chuckled and shook his head, but his attention drifted from Lucy to scan the bar. Once each patron was accounted for, Lucy returned, the towel gone and a light spring jacket in hand. She slid it on while stepping from behind the counter, a friendly wave offered to everyone who had come to know her at the place of work. Tim kept his hands in his jeans pockets as they walked out, but his body inclined toward Lucy.

“How was work?” he asked, mapping out the shadows her cropped hair panted along her cheeks.

“Fine,” she murmured, shrugging. She glanced up at him and noticed his expression. “Something on your mind?” He tipped his head forward, and brought his shoulders up in a lingering shrug. 

“I thought maybe we could… go out?” Lucy stopped short.

“Sorry?” Her brain was suddenly buzzing. Tim pivoted to face her, his stomach suddenly churning from her dubious reaction.

“Look,” he implored, a little more forcefully than he maybe needed to. “We moved here, and we do the same shit day in, and day out. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’m off, and you don’t work until the late afternoon… so lets go do something,” he encouraged, swaying with a restless energy that emphasized his - _their_ \- need for this. Lucy couldn’t believe it, and her expression reflected her surprise as much as her breathy laugh did. 

“Says the man who used to think working out was the only source of ‘fun’ he needed,” she teased him, her grin growing while Tim’s flattened.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head and twisted away from her with a petulant, “Whatever. Never mind.”

“Na, na, na,” she cooed, wrapping her hand around the underbelly of his forearm. He glanced back, surprised by the feeling of her skin on his. His Henley had ridden up a few inches, allowing her fingers to easily slide beneath his wrist and seek his hand out. His hand lifted from his pocket on its own accord. “Now, come on,” she said, while securing her fingers with his to keep him rooted to the moment. Her hand was warm. His throat went a little dry as his fingers folded over hers. She looked up at him with big, curious eyes and asked, “You got something in mind?” 

Tim offered a lopsided smirk and tilted his head in a nod.


	7. Is This A Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to just summarize this event in a different chapter, but everyone was so interested in what Tim had in mind that I decided to dedicate a whole chapter to his idea. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a distinct reference to the first part of this series "How Could I Be So Blind?" So if you haven't read that one-shot before now, you should go back and read it otherwise you'll miss the reference :)

“Mini golf?” Lucy asked, brows lifting incredulously as she looked at the spotlight-lit course. A few other couples were dotted around the various holes, and one group of teenagers whose laughter carried louder than all the others combined. 

“You got a problem with that?” Tim asked, edging on annoyed. Lucy glanced up at him.

Before she could grow flustered by his leer, she wittily chirped, “No. I just didn’t think you knew what this was.” His expression flattened. 

"Ha ha,” he drawled, twisting away from her dazzling grin to grab a putter and a blue colored ball. He stepped aside to let her grab her chosen equipment and explained, “It’s the only thing that was open this late that wasn’t just another bar. And I thought you’d appreciate a change of scenery after your shift. Besides, this place is BYOB.” He stepped back to the counter he’d set his six pack on to lift it up and jiggle a little. 

“Ah,” Lucy said with a nod. Smiling a little, she tossed and caught her little green ball. They headed onto the course, the first turf-lined course rather simplistic, with only a couple odd bumps between them and the hole. Tim set his ball to one of the little tees, and Lucy grabbed a beer, twisting the cap off while she watched him drag his putter back and make his shot. The ball gave a clack before it went soaring through the little grooves the hills made. She guzzled a sip back, quirking a brow when Tim sunk his shot, hole in one. 

“You’re not gonna go easy on me?” She almost pouted over her beer bottle. Tim turned toward her with a breathy laugh, his grin growing as he shook his head at her. 

“Not a chance,” he groused, before his brows lifted and he chastised, “I’m ashamed you’d ask.” Rolling her eyes at him, Lucy took another sip of her beer, before she put it down in its slot of the six-pack for safe keeping. They switched places, Tim grabbing for a beer while Lucy lined her shot up. She looked between her mark and the ball a few times, focusing on the prize, before she putt her golf ball down the course, and made herself a hole in one as well. Tim schooled his face in order to not look as impressed as he felt. Lucy turned toward him on the balls of her feet, a cheeky little smirk quirking her lips. 

“I’m ashamed you’d even consider you need to,” she taunted him. His lips twitched, but he held his smile at bay to roll his eyes instead. He picked up the beer, and she picked up their colored golf balls. Flexible enough to bow at the waist with a straight leg, Tim caught the delectably tight stretch of denim over her voluptuous rear before he could think better of it. He looked away sharply, keeping his eyes trained on the stone pathway that lead to the next course.

Lucy jogged to catch up to him. “So where’d you get your mad puttin’ skills?” Lucy drawled, grinning cheekily. He huffed at her, amazed by how much dork she could douse a situation with. 

“It’s not exactly rocket science,” he chided. Glancing down at her, he smirked and added, “And you know I have good aim.” She huffed, and let her head fall forward in a sweet, borderline flirty bob. Tim blew out a slow, silent breath as they stopped at the 2nd course. He set the beer down and reached for his own. Bringing it up toward his lips, he gestured with the bottle and said, “Ladies first.” He guzzled a few mouthfuls of his beer back while Lucy set her ball down and lined up her shot on the curved course, more hills intersecting the L-shaped path to make it more difficult. Her ball bounced from one wall to the next and went a little wide of the flagged hole.

Clucking her teeth, she stepped back and switched places with Tim. It was only then that she realized how strange this really was. They never really hung out alone before this. Any time they had been together off duty, the rest of their friends and coworkers were there too. Even when they’d gone paintballing other people surrounded them, both on their team and against them. Group affairs, all of them, save the one time Tim had shown up at her door unprompted. It had been easy then, as it was easy now. She and Tim got along shockingly well, and it made her wonder why they’d never really hung out more before now.

And then she remembered that last time in more detail. How she’d been able to smell his cologne and something headier that was distinctly him when she’d fallen onto the couch next to him. How her cheek had tingled when he brushed her hair away from her face. That frighteningly charged moment before Jackson arrived home. 

She swallowed a large sip of beer down, her dark eyes roaming over Tim’s broad shoulders and how they stretched the simple cotton of his shirt. She caught the prideful little smirk he tried to hide after he knocked his ball across the course, and found herself huffing at how he clucked his tongue and his expression flattened when his ball skirted past the edge of the hole. She took a slow, deep breath to stave off the heat threatening to burn her from the inside out, and followed Tim across the course to make their second attempts.

 _No reason to think of the past now,_ Lucy reminded herself, focusing on the present moment to complete her shot. Only she went wide again, and let out a petulant little growl that had Tim chuckling. He sunk his ball with an easy little bump, and then stepped back with a smug look to watch Lucy struggle through another miss before she finally completed the hole. Glowering up at him, she preemptively muttered, “Shut up! I struggle on the close ups.”

His brows flickered in passive acknowledgment, though he surprisingly kept quiet as they packed up and headed to the next obstacle. They made it through another few courses (and both cheered and laughed like maniacs when they got through the lighthouse obstacle with a hole in one) before Lucy got stuck again. The short-range putts put her off. She always hit them a little cockeyed, narrowly missing her goal each time. Tim watched her suffer through a few frustrating attempts before he huffed and said, “Here.”

He stepped up beside her and nudged her foot with the tip of his own. “Move your feet a little closer together and square them,” he instructed, toeing her foot until he was satisfied with its placement. He set his hand to her forearm then, just above her wrist where her jacket had ridden up. His skin immediately warmed her own, her veins buzzing with the sensation as he quietly said, “Relax this arm.” He twisted her hold with his gentle grip, and adjusted her fingers around the handle.

“Now,” he murmured, one hand planting just above her hip. She stiffened a little, but he seemed to not notice as he told her, “You wanna stay as still as possible. You twist your hips, and while that helps with the first shot across the course, you’re only shifting the line of your shot this close up, and messing with the power you strike the ball with. Just keep still and use your forearms to tap the ball straight once you’re lined up with the hole. It should go in.”

Only, he kept his hand there. It was effective, she supposed. She couldn’t think of moving a muscle, her whole world boiled down to the weight of his heated touch against her side, and the pressure of his presence hovering right behind her. She blew out a slow, unsteady breath, and by the grace of God, managed to do as he said and tapped the ball into the hole.

“There you go,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. It had her twisting around to look at him over her shoulder. She almost smiled, until she realized how close he was, especially once he tipped his head down to look at her. He must’ve realized it as well, because his expression went a little slack, his deep blue eyes searching her face. For what, she couldn’t say, she felt too stupid to register anything except the magnetized tension suddenly between them.

Her pounding heart nearly leapt out of her chest when a woman on the path ahead of them said, “Oh! I’m so sorry. I usually don’t butt in like this, but you two are just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Lucy glanced toward the woman, a few years older than Tim, cooing at them like they were her own kids about to go to the prom. Lucy huffed, her cheeks stinging and mind still unhelpfully blank. Her heart leapt into her throat when Tim adjusted his hand against her, dragging her back to rest against his hip as he offered a charming, polite smile to the woman.

“Thanks,” he said easily, and _damn, why is he so good at this?_ He made it seem effortless, almost natural, and Lucy never would’ve expected that. She’d never really seen Rachel and Tim together after their first staged date, but it felt like a crime that he could so easily fall into the role of doting husband with her. His _rookie_. 

_He’s just doing his job,_ she reminded herself, because that’s what this was. A role, a cover, and it wouldn’t be like this forever. It had been a month and a half of this weird cookie-cutter life, and they both were under the firm belief it wouldn’t last. They’d go back to reality at some point in the near future. As if to prove that, Tim’s hand fell away from her once the woman and her husband move on to their next course, and he stepped away like nothing had happened.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

Mentally, she kicked herself about a dozen times as they quietly moved on to take on the next obstacle - a swirling series of paths with multiple rocks and pitfalls in the way - because for a second there, she’d secretly entertained the fact that felt like a date. _Don’t be one of those idiot cops who forgets who they are while under cover,_ she pleaded with herself, her heart aching valiantly as she watched Tim square up for another shot, and wondered if she was already maybe a lost cause.


	8. You're Really Good At Faking It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Lucy get good news and let themselves have a night to celebrate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this week to help with the hiatus. Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy out there!
> 
> There's a nod to 2x16 "The Overnight" in this chapter, so that episode is a part of my fic canon as well lmao. Idk about any else at this moment, but I'll let you know if any others make the cut.

Lucy still couldn’t get over their mini-golf night. They’d drank beer and laughed like a couple of normal people. Like a normal couple. It had felt… good. _Too_ good, and it left her head spinning, even days later. Lucy could be obsessive. Anyone who knew her for even a day could likely pick up on that much. A bona fide over-thinker, she could easily talk herself in circles over a singular choice or instance. She’d always prided herself that she _didn’t_ get like that over guys, however.

Maybe that was because she’d never let herself care about a man enough to stress, but she really didn’t get worked up over her dating life. After Caleb there hadn’t been much of a dating life _to get_ worked up over, but that was beside the point. Even John, who had been the only relationship she’d come close to caring about long-term, she didn’t nitpick. If anything, she’d downplayed the whole affair due to their situation, which was exactly what she should’ve been doing here. 

Yet here she was, running through a series of seconds like a broken record. 

The pressure, the heat, the smell of his cologne. She remembered in vivid detail how stunning his steely blue eyes looked, how they curiously searched her and smoothed his subtle worry lines away from his chiseled face. Her breath caught even now, mind spinning, wondering what it meant - if it meant anything at all, or if she was just the crazy one here obsessing over nothing.

It haunted her dreams. 

A taboo fantasy, an unspoken desire, she woke up panting and sweating more and more often, confusion bundling up with her inexplicable want. She could picture his breath ghosting over her skin so perfectly, feel the heat of him burn her as they writhed together, lips needy and demanding as they kissed. His hands were heavy as they roamed her wanting figure, and her own wanton moans always embarrassingly lingered in her mind. 

And if she started to slip her fingers beneath the waistline of her sweats to relieve a little unresolved tension, that was nobody’s business but hers. 

She felt a little guilty afterward, and in desperate need of a shower. Unlike the master bedroom, the bathroom she used was a few doors down from her own room. She grabbed a towel and took her time under the steamy spray. The rushing water helped drown her thoughts out for a while, and she felt a little more centered once she stepped out and wrapped the towel around her soaked figure. That lasted a whole of six seconds when she walked out into the hallway and nearly ran into Tim. 

Even he jolted, his expression growing slack and eyes a little wide as he cussed, “Shit, sorry.” Lucy gaped at him, her heart thundering a mile a minute as she tried to understand how this had happened. She always showered around this time, while Tim was at work for the day, so she never ran into him like this. It was barely noon, yet here she was.

And then she remembered the meeting they were supposed to have with their case manager before her own evening shift. 

_Right_. With the mystery solved, she straightened up a little and gripped tightly to the singular piece of cloth covering her. “That’s alright. I guess we’re even now,” Lucy muttered, her cheeks stinging with heat. When Tim continued to stare at her blankly, she blinked and stammered, “I… caught you in a towel at Rachel’s house that one morning…”

“Right,” he huffed, a smile flickering over his lips before the awkward air stifled them both again.

“Excuse me,” Lucy muttered, smiling sheepishly as she squeezed by Tim to get to her room. Once she was gone, he rolled his eyes and mentally berated himself for the overwhelming sense of anxiety and yearning he felt from one stupid run in. Lucy wasn’t much better, her hand still planted against her bedroom door as she tried to get her nerves to settle.

The impending meeting with their case manager made it easier to focus, and not a full hour later, they had good news to lift their spirits further. They had traction on the Montgomery case. A plea bargain was being settled, and the information they needed to guarantee the crime family’s arrests would be in the works. “Once the arrests are made, we’ll get you out of here. Should be a matter of weeks.” It helped them find lighter spirits almost immediately, and made the Wisconsin spring skies feel a little less grey. 

Two weeks later, and the chilly spring air shifted toward the warmth of the encroaching summer. Lucy felt abuzz with it all, and her veins itched with _any day now_. She could tell Tim felt the same, his weight always shifting eagerly, eyes looking around with a livelier glint in them. It felt good, exciting, and maybe made them both a little more open to opportunity. Another couple, one closer to their ages, invited them to a lakeside bonfire night. 

“Is that legal?” Lucy asked, head tipping forward incredulously… before she realized she needed to stop thinking with her cop brain. Tim smirked, because fortunately she’d come off just like the innocent newcomer she ought to still be. 

“Yeah. I have a property on the waterfront, so that stretch of beach we can do whatever we want with,” the male, Jack, assured. Like Tim, his late 30s were bringing on more permanent wrinkles to his fair skin, but he lacked gray hairs or a diminishing musculature. His pretty wife curled under his arm had ginger hair and freckles, and a smile that felt almost tacky-sweet. Her genuineness helped on that matter though, and she assured the two they’d get along great with all their friends.

Lucy and Tim looked to one another before they pursed their lips and shrugged, a shared, _Might be nice to celebrate,_ passing between them. 

A total of 8 headed to the lake together that Saturday night, since everyone had off the following Sunday. Both Tim and Lucy looked at the 3 other couples with moderate apprehension as they realized this was a far more intimate setting than any other they’d put themselves through yet. It was a warm night with clear skies, stars twinkling down on them and a crescent moon adding a bit of mysticism to the night. A fire pit was already set up on the beach, a cooler of snacks and beers being toted between two of the men. They set blankets out on the ground – a fine line between dirt and sand – and each couple settled down on their own.

Tim put his hands behind him and stretched his legs out before him, so his bare feet touched the fine, soft sand. Lucy curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest beside him. They sat closer than the properly should’ve, and both were far more aware of the close proximity than anyone else. Keeping their boundaries and covers in sync was a fine line. The heat radiating off Tim had Lucy’s hair standing on end, and Tim couldn’t stop focusing on the heavy thud of his heart as he stared into the fire. If he so much as tipped to the side, they’d be brushing against one another.

For all their internal struggles and alertness, they looked calm, at ease. Beers were passed out from the cooler, and both took one gratefully. They were celebrating, after all. Their cans tipped together in a cheer, and Tim chuckled a little before he took a sip in sync with Lucy. He watched her lick her lips and brush the moisture away with her extended thumb, before turning his attention to the rest of their company. Jack and his wife, Paula, shared stories about the cabin, and the evening fell into easy chatter.

An hour in and several beers deep, the night turned from casual to illegal when one of the men took out a plastic bag filled with dark, hallucinogenic mushrooms. Tim’s face fell, and tension steeled his body. Lucy perked up on the other hand, a bit surprised how quickly they’d busted out such a substance. But then, no one expected them to be naysayers when no one knew they were cops.

Thinking fast, Lucy asked, “Uh, do you mind if we take a walk along your beach?”

“Oh. Sure,” Jack assured, accepting the plastic bag. He jiggled it once, before politely inquiring, “You sure you don’t want any?”

“No, we’re good. Thanks though,” Lucy said, far more civilly than Tim could’ve managed. She set her hand on his arm while rising to her feet, a silent encouragement for him to follow. They followed the banks a ways away from the others, once again walking close enough to almost touch. 

“You know, it’s ridiculous,” Tim commented, once they were well and truly alone in the dark, “we would’ve been busting them for this a few months ago. And now we’re taking a romantic stroll while they get high dangerously close to a lake.”

“They probably do it all the time,” Lucy murmured, her voice light with amusement.

“Yeah, well that just makes it worse,” Tim griped. She chuckled and shook her head. A moment later, she blinked. She glanced up at him, peering through the dark to catch a glimpse of his neutral expression.

“I didn’t know the word ‘romantic’ was even in your vocabulary,” she teased him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes at her.

“Shut up,” he griped, only to earn a chuckle from Lucy. It had a smile cracking across his lips. They walked a few paces longer, the murky scent of lake water and wet spring grass surprisingly refreshing. The wind tousled his opened button-up, a dark cotton T-shirt and simple shorts covering his tall build. _It is kinda romantic,_ Lucy thought, stealing another glance toward Tim. Her hair whipped into her face on account of the wind, and she hugged the long cardigan she had on tighter around herself. 

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get back?” she asked finally, an excitable skip in her step. “I think I’m going to wrangle Jackson and Nolan into going karaoke-ing with me.” Tim glanced toward her sharply.

“You sing?” He hadn’t seen what she’d gotten up to that day they busted someone on the American Idol tryouts, and she’d never told a soul about that exciting embarrassment. She flushed now even having Tim call attention to it.

“Uh, a little,” she muttered. He hummed, and went back to watching their path.

“I dunno. Probably go to a Dodgers game, or something… and get a _taco_ ,” Tim sighed, practically groaning for the lost authentic food. Much of it just wasn’t the same this far north and inland. Lucy laughed. 

“Yeah, I miss my veggie burgers with extra pickles,” she agreed. They lapsed into silence for a few steps before Lucy giggled darkly and teased, “I’m gonna tell everyone I bested you in a sparring match.” She knew it was asking for trouble, and her devilish grin grew all too broad because of it. Brows lifting high, Tim stared at her, practically gaped.

“Oh yeah?” he breathed, lip twitching. Lucy quirked a brow and tipped her head in a challenging way. He huffed, astounded by her audacity. Instead of reaming her out like he usually would, he lunged for her. He’d blame the alcohol coursing through his veins later, but in that moment, it was entirely worth it to hear Lucy yip and laugh manically as she lurched and tried to run. She managed to get a few steps before he got an arm around her, slung tight around her waist as he lifted her up. He spun her around, laughing himself when she kicked out wildly to try and break free.

He twisted around once more and started walking toward the water. “Oh, no. Ti- _Chuck_ ,” she yelped, remembering at just the last second not to call him by name. “Stop, stop, don’t!” She writhed against the vice grip he held her with to his torso, his body hard and strong all around her. She was wily though, and determined, wrenching her weight against him until his balance finally tipped. He stumbled to the side enough that she got her feet down on the ground, and while he tried to keep his grip on her, she yanked on him again until he spilled into the sand.

She tried to run, but he still had his arms around her enough that he snagged her legs, and she flopped to the sand beside him in a fit of laughter. His own low chuckles warmed her, and riled her further as she took her turn to pounce. Claws out, she went searching for the ticklish spot she now knew existed at his sides. He choked once her fingers dug into him, cheeks puffing up as he tried to stifle the inevitable laughter. His hands gripped around her toned biceps, and when he finally managed to get his bearing in the sand, he tugged her over his body.

They rolled, a few times, all breathless laughs and dwindling fight. Tim didn’t know how it happened, but he again found himself under Lucy, staring up at her twinkling eyes and gentle smile. He blinked, stilled by the way her lithe body compressed his, warm and soft, even with the granules of sand still crumbling off them. A vicious need possessed him, and he reached up slowly to touch his fingertips to her cheek. She nearly gasped as his callouses scratched against her silken flesh, the sensation immediately causing a flare of goose bumps to prickle on the back of her neck. He reached up further, brushing her cropped hair back, away from her face, admiring the way the soft strands glided through his fingertips.

They couldn’t be doing this. So close to the finish line, Lucy felt the taboo desire building like a kick in the face. She blinked out of her stupor, resisted the urge to break down and slot their lips together, and forced every ounce of courage and strength she had into her arms. She pushed up from the ground, the subtle movement startling Tim out of his trance as well. He looked stricken for a moment, like he couldn’t understand how he’d gotten there, but he steeled himself and lifted from the ground as well, quieted.

They brushed themselves off of sand for a few moments, before Lucy looked up at him and smiled. It was weak in comparison to what it had just been, but she tried to keep the hopeful note in her voice when she encouraged, “I bet you’ll be happy to see Rachel, too, huh?”

It was a line drawn between them in the sand. Tim acknowledged it with a growing lump in his throat, but he looked up at Lucy pointedly, admittedly a little surprise by the blow. Not because of the unmistakable avoidance to what just happened (what _kept_ happening), but because Lucy still didn’t know, “Rachel and I broke up a couple months before we ended up here.” She balked, and his lips pursed in bemusement when she couldn’t seem to wipe the shock off her face.

“No one told me that!” They started walking again. Tim pursed his lips again and shrugged.

“We didn’t broadcast it. It was a clean break. Mutual,” he explained, clipped, nodding slowly to the half-truth. It had been a clean break, and mutual. He liked Rachel, he really did, and he valued their relationship, but the two of them had been heading in different directions from the beginning. Rachel deserved more than he could give, and she’d been the first to realize why he was incapable. He glanced toward Lucy, realizing only now what she’d meant when she said, _You already moved on from this relationship. You just don’t know it’s because you’re moving toward someone else. When you figure it out, you let me know._

Rachel’s cheeky little smile was the last memory he had with her. He reflected on it now and almost smiled himself. Instead, he glanced toward Lucy, who was still processing the information, and asked, “You wanna get outta here?” She nodded, so the headed back to pick up their few meager things and call it a night. A blissful, borderline romantic, night.


	9. Rock Bottom Has Some Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy and Tim are on a rollercoaster and we're all here for it (I think)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING for this chapter:** Somewhat graphic depiction of suicide/brief discussion around it, so please be mindful if you're sensitive to this sort of scenario. 
> 
> **Disclaimer for this chapter:** I am making everything up about their witness protection. I tried to keep things in tone with the show/how I think it might go if it played out in an actual episode, but I cannot say this is at all accurate to what this might be like in a real life scenario, so just keep that in mind.
> 
>  **In other news:** Thank you all SO MUCH for reading/reviewing. I know I don't always respond to comments left (sometimes I just can't find the words. I know that's weird being a writer, but its the truth), but I just want you all to know it means the world to me to hear what you think <3 So thank you each and every one of you, it makes writing all the more pleasurable.

The day came, just under a few months like their case manager promised. Lucy and Tim had felt jittery for weeks, but as they arrived at Morgan’s home for an impromptu meeting she’d called, they both felt ready to burst with their hope and excitement. It all but vanished the second they saw her face. Through her stony mien, she tried to smile, but it fell flat as she held her case file for them out and gestured to their usual set of chairs.

“Have a seat.” They obliged silently, both far tenser than they’d been upon entering. She sat down in her own worn leather chair after them, a heavy sigh blowing out her lips.

“What happened?” Tim asked, unable to bear any sugarcoating. 

“Kevin’s dead. We found him in his cell this morning, arms slit up to the elbows,” Morgan told them, shocking both cops.

“Suicide?” Lucy remarked, flabbergasted.

“The guy makes a plea deal and then takes his own life? No way,” Tim protested, shaking his head at the unlikeliness of that.

“Do we think it was someone from the Montgomery gang?” Lucy asked, heeding her TO’s opinion. She glanced from him to Morgan uncertainly, before she finished her thought, “Killed him before any evidence could come forward in the plea deal, made it look like a suicide?”

“It’s possible,” Morgan agreed, nodding slowly before another sigh escaped her. “But we have no evidence. Just a blade with his fingerprints on it.” She paused for a long moment as she looked between the two of them, before she took a heavy breath. “And now we have no case to bring against the Montgomery Crime Family as a whole. Which means…”

“We’re stuck here,” Tim realized, a pit sinking into his stomach. 

“W-what? No,” Lucy whined, horror slackening her expression while Tim bowed his head to brace against the blow. Morgan kept her sympathy muted as she stared at them. Tim took a breath, raking his brain for the kind of ‘sideways’ plan Lucy commended him for.

“There’s gotta be something we can do,” he implored their case manager, shaking his head in stubborn denial. 

“Our team’s working every angle we can, and we’re still _building_ a case against the family. It’s just… going to take longer than we expected. So for the time being, we’re going to have to keep you in witness protection.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Lucy pressed. Morgan pursed her lips.

“Honestly? Most people who’re put in witness protection don’t come out of it.”

“Well, can’t you just use us as bait or something? Let them come after us if it’ll get them in jail quicker!” Tim barked, brazen and pragmatic as ever. Lucy startled at first, but she perked up on the chance it could offer them a way out. Morgan scoffed at him and shook her head.

“Sorry, cowboy. No one wants to see another pair of dead cops, and seein’ as its Hugo’s son who bit the dust after you two arrested him? If they done it or not, they’re still gonna take it out on you if they get their hands on you. And trust me, they won’t make it quick and pretty,” Morgan told him, just as logically. She gave them a moment to absorb the situation, before she tried for a more sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I really am,” she murmured, though they all knew it didn’t matter.

Lucy felt choked. Her lashes fluttered, her throat closing and tears welling without her consent. A man was dead - scumbag or not, it was a horrible tragedy to weigh on their shoulders - and now all their hope and the months of sacrifice for safety meant nothing. It was a horrible conundrum that ate at the best of cops. She forced a breath, and then looked down at her phone to realize the time. “I-I have to get to work,” she choked, rising from her chair before anyone could tell her otherwise. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she twisted around and stiffly walked out of the room. Tim lifted quickly after, but his steely eyes remained locked onto their case manager.

“Look, talk to your superior, tell them we’re game for anything. Okay? _Please_.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Morgan drawled slowly, nodding once. “But Bradford? Don’t get your hopes up.” He rolled his eyes at her and left. The second he stepped outside, he wheezed. Chest heaving under the duress, he stood on the porch for several moments as he tried to wrap around the reality of _indefinite_ , of the horror that the Montgomery family could butcher their own to protect themselves. What they'd do to a pair of cops that caused it? He knew Morgan was right. That view they had of freedom and normalcy, of going back to what they knew and loved, it was all gone in the blink of an eye.

Lucy was, too, and so was their truck. She had a spare key to it, and had taken it to make it to her shift on time. Tim didn’t blame her for taking it without saying anything, and he used the time walking back to their home to think. It didn’t help, nothing would. He was in a strange state of shock, and Lucy was no better. She only made it through her shift because of muscle memory at this point, and she didn’t make it to the end. With the excuse of feeling sick, she clocked out two hours early (but not before stealing a couple bottles from the back room).

When she got back to their quaint, nice little abode, Lucy wasn’t surprised to find Tim on the couch, staring emptily at the coffee table. “Hey,” she called, setting her own ache away at the sight of another’s. It took effort for him to lift his gaze and look at her, and they looked almost as haunted as the day he’d first seen Isabel after a year. Another love lost, and Lucy understood this one far more than the last. Softening, she brought the little box she’d stolen from work closer and set it down on the coffee table for him to see. “This, uh… felt like an ‘end of the world’ night,” she referenced.

Tim glanced inside to see a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of tequila stashed inside. Brows lifting, he looked up from the bottles to Lucy’s marginally hopeful expression and huffed. “I’ll drink to that,” he finally muttered dryly while reaching for the whiskey bottle. Lucy’s smile grew briefly, before she took the tequila bottle. In true fashion to their missile threat day, they unscrewed the caps, tipped their bottles together, and took a swig straight from the neck. Lucy hummed as the silver tequila burned its way down her throat.

“You know,” she murmured after swallowing, taking a moment to lick her lips. “Knowing we’re _actually_ going to see tomorrow, this is probably a bad idea.” Tim pursed his lips in passive disagreement and tipped another mouthful past his lips. She watched him swallow, not even a grimace passing his vacant expression as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. He licked his bottom lip after the shot settled, leaving the pink flesh shiny and inviting.

“We’re entitled to a bad idea in our own home,” he argued a moment later, and his blue eyes flickered around the abode that would remain theirs for the foreseeable… ever, possibly. Trying to keep the mood light, Lucy tipped her head and stuck the edge of her bottle out again.

“And I’ll cheers to that,” she chirped, earning another huff from Tim. Abysmally flat or not, she’d take it. They clinked glass bottles together one more time before taking another swig, and Lucy hummed as she swallowed. Eying Tim, her lips quirked in a subtle smile before she asked, “Two truths and a lie?” That one didn’t get the desired reaction, so Lucy rambled on before she could be disappointed by Tim’s gruff glare. “Or we could blast some music, forget about thinking about anything for awhile. Do some dancing, or make up some… bash the decorations game.”

Brows lifting, he finally laughed. Rolling his eyes a little at her persistence, he shook his head and couldn’t help the gentle smile that lingered on his lips. “If we’re drinking to the end of the world, we need the proper drinking game this time… and the proper music.” He lifted from the couch finally, and Lucy watched him wander into the kitchen. He grabbed a shot glass from the cupboards and fished a quarter out from his jeans’ pockets. Setting them both on the kitchen table, he took out his phone and hooked it into the small speaker set Lucy had bought for them.

As “It’s The End of the World” by R.E.M. came on, Lucy’s face fell. She gaped at Tim while bemoaning, “Oh my God, you’re so old.” As a sharp laugh left her, Tim balked incredulously and picked up the quarter.

“What are you talking about? These are classic staples,” he defended, before he clapped the quarter onto the table and bounced it into the shot glass. Scoffing, he criticized, “You’re just culture-less.”

“ _Culture-less_?!” The half-smirk Tim provided her with nearly had her breath hitching.

Nodding toward the bottle of tequila in her hand, he ordered, “Drink.” Rolling her eyes, she refrained from pouting by bringing the bottle up to take a swig. Old or not, the song was catchy, and funny enough to brighten the mood as they took turns firing the quarter for its mark, trading drinks and laughs any time the coin skimmed off the side of the glass. Lucy even started dancing at one point, bopping on her feet around the table until Tim scoffed a breathy laugh at her and shook his head.

It _was_ kind of a bad idea, though. Sooner than not, Tim was drunker than he’d been in a _long_ time. At Lucy’s bemoaning insistence, they ordered a pizza, and once it arrived, they sat on the floor before the coffee table and ate it over the box while watching some buddy cop show they both got a kick out of hounding with corrections and improbabilities. It was more fun than it should’ve been, the macabre night landing pleasantly in spite of the gloom.

That was the beauty of Lucy, though. She just made everything… better. Tim glanced over at her while they ate their mousse pudding cups from the pizza parlor, his eyes softening as he watched her hunch over to spoon a mouthful past her lips. Her twinkling gaze was trained on the TV, and he felt his heart flutter for no good reason. Tapping his spoon against the edge of the plastic cup, he looked back at the rich dessert and took a steadying breath.

“Could be worse, I guess. Getting stuck here awhile longer,” he murmured finally. Lucy scoffed, barely paying attention between the sweet she was devouring and the baseball game their scheduled program had changed to with the hour. Tim pursed his lips and added, “They could’ve given us a dump without cable TV.”

“Yes, and God forbid you miss your sports,” Lucy drawled, chuckling to herself. She finished licking her spoon clean, and put the garbage on the coffee table to be dealt with later. She curled her knees up toward her chest and rested her arms against her thighs. Her head tilted back toward the couch cushions, which they were both using as a backrest while they sat on the floor. Lucy let her head lull to the side so she could steal a glance at Tim. A lazy smile quirked her lips as she watched him focus on the game. 

“Oh,” she realized once he pulled the spoon away from his lips. “You’ve got a little…” she trailed off while tipping her head forward to inspect the smear of chocolate against the seam of his bottom lip. Thoughtlessly, she reached up with her thumb and swiped along the edge of his lip. While effective in ridding his skin of chocolate, she hadn’t meant to send a bolt of heat through them both. The graze of skin felt electrified, and it startled Tim’s heart into skipping as his blue eyes darted toward her face. She caught the growing dilation in his pupils, and her lips parted from an abrupt sense of want.

His lips felt so velvety, softer than they rightly ought to be with how often he had them pulled into a tight, disapproving line. Right now they were open though, shocked and curious and impossibly inviting. Lucy couldn’t catch her breath for the life of her as she openly stared at him, her fingers still lingering against his cheek. The tension broke for both at the same time. They abruptly looked back toward the TV, and Lucy reached for a napkin to wipe her thumb against.

“Thanks,” Tim murmured, voice hoarse enough to crack and force him to clear his throat. She could only manage to nod sharply, the hair on her arms standing on end. Silence filled the space between them thickly, despite the additive noise of the baseball game still playing on TV. Even Tim couldn’t hope to focus on it now, the elephant that had been building bigger and bigger between them having taken up all the space in their intoxicated brains.

 _Why though?_ Lucy finally asked herself, and the question seized her completely. She’d forever blame the liquid courage tequila gave her for how she twisted toward him and (downright coyly) asked, “You know what else would make this whole situation better?” Tim’s attention returned to her, eyes wide and uncertain, and maybe a little bit hopeful. Lucy uncurled herself from her lounge to twist toward him. She brought her hand up to cup his cheek, and leaned forward to gently press their lips together.

 _God_. For how soft they felt to her finger, his lips were utterly divine pressing into hers. The way his breath hitched at the pressure encouraged her forward, skin pressing to his tenderly, and _damn_. Every dream and longing moment rushed to him then, the ache of longing weighing heavy enough on his chest that he leaned into the embrace for a split second. The next, he drew back, brows pinched in conflict. 

“We shouldn’t,” he murmured, ever the voice of reason. 

“Why not?” she asked, searching his glittering eyes. She kept her hand against his cheek as she pointed out, “It’s just us now. No one's coming to rescue us, and I refuse to stop living just because our old lives were taken away. We were _put_ in this position. Shouldn’t we at least try to enjoy it?” God damn it, she had a point, and with her lips a hair’s breadth away, it felt impossible to resist. He didn’t know who tipped forward first. Gravity just seemed to draw them together, and suddenly their lips meshed together again. Gentle at first, and then more needy.

He caved first and wrapped his fingers behind her head, drawing her in deeper while his tongue pried into her mouth. She gave easily, moaning just so when their tongues brushed together sinfully sweet. Desire thrummed through him, and he sought out more of her while she simultaneously climbed into his lap. His fingers twisted into her hair and smoothed up her sides, the weight of her balanced atop his lap causing his cock to swell beneath his jeans. He tipped up from the couch, deepening the kiss while her nails raked through his lengthening brown hair.

The first time she ground her hips down over his growing erection, his breath hitched. He both praised and cursed the sensation, which acted more like a cold bucket of water than the fire starter it should’ve been. “Wait,” he panted, twisting his head away to break their kiss. “We can’t.” Those three words nearly devastated Lucy. She froze up, ready to Hail Mary herself off to the side and find somewhere to bury herself all over again. Sensing her distress, Tim met her doe eyes and cupped one hand against the broad curve of her jaw. 

“Not like this,” he amended, holding her gaze with his usual intensity. “We’re drunk, and if we go through with this... we should be sober, when it’ll matter. Because it _does_ matter,” he implored quietly, brushing his fingers through her dark, dyed locks. He did it again and searched her eyes, before he blew out a breath and said, “If we do this, our lives’ll change again. And this time because of us.” He was right, and she knew it. They were both raw and lost, and clinging to the last thing they knew, the last bit of them that felt _real_. She couldn’t find the words to express how much that meant to her, but he likely wouldn’t believe it anyway, not until his designated amount of time had passed and she could come back and say, _I’m here_.

“Okay,” she said for now, wondering how she was possibly going to sleep soundly with her body on fire and in need. She’d done it for weeks however, so she’d endure one night. “Yeah, okay,” she puffed, wiping at her flushed cheek as she searched the space (or lack thereof) between them. It took effort to detangle from him, and more not to lean forward and kiss his kiss-glazed lips. She lifted to her feet, and he slowly followed her. She noticed how he hobbled himself for a moment, trying to hide the strain of his jeans, but she diverted her gaze to clean up their garbage from the night.

Once she finished, she paused to glance at him as he shut off the TV. “Tim?” she called, drawing his still lust-blown gaze on her. The intensity in them nearly stole her breath away, but she pursed her lips and said, “For the record, being stuck here with you… it’s the only thing that’s made this whole experience bearable. And I know it sucks, and I wish we were both back in LA, but… for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re the one here with me. And I don’t think I’d change anything about that…” _or where we ended up tonight_. 

It was the most important part, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Her throat closed, and she blinked nervously. Tim offered her a gentle half-smirk that shouldn’t have been as knee-weakening as it was. Somehow, she remained upright, and watched him nod before he said, “Yeah. Me too.” It felt weighted, like maybe he wanted to say the same thing she couldn’t. After a pregnant pause however, he quietly uttered, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she repeated sharply, nodding once before she forced her feet to lead her to her room, and left more questions for them to ask with the coming light.


	10. When We Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their situation, and their brief lapse in judgment in the last chapter finally come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you're all well and healthy. Sorry this chapter took a bit, but I figured this was maybe better left for after the S2 finale for how little Chenford content it had. Hope this makes up for the that and the indefinite hiatus we have to deal with now. Enjoy!

In the morning, Lucy was a bundle of nerves as she left her room. Tim was already seated at the kitchen table, his breakfast almost finished and a plate set out for her. Her heart thundered and lodged up in her throat as she looked at him, reserved and stoic as always. He rubbed his fingers together over the elbow he had propped against the table, jaws clenching as he finished chewing a bite of eggs. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, he leveled her with a resigned look.

“I talked to Morgan yesterday after you left, asked her to push her superiors into letting us draw the Montgomery family out some other way. She’s looking into it… so I think it’d be best if we wait to hear back from her on if there’s still a way out of this,” Tim told her, matter of fact. Quiet, calculated, this wasn’t the man that had his tongue down her throat last night. He seemed to be trying to separate himself away from that man as far as possible, and Lucy’s whole being deflated a little at that.

“Right, okay.” Except it wasn’t okay. When she sat down at the table to join him for breakfast, her skin suddenly prickled with an overpowering buzz. Her hair stood on end as if it were trying to reach out for him, and her throat went dry just thinking about the heat she knew radiated from his muscles. Tim stiffened as well, and then abruptly lifted from his seat.

“I gotta get to work,” he muttered hoarsely, and he was gone in the blink of an eye. It didn’t get any easier. Every time they were around each other, all the air seemed to get sucked out of the room. The tension was thick and palpable, and Lucy felt the temptation to sink into it every time she looked at him. Tim was no better. He felt like a horny fucking teenager again. Every time Lucy so much as slanted her eyes toward him or brushed her finger against her lip, a boner threatened his stoic demeanor. 

They were both wound tighter than a coil that, by a week later, when Morgan eventually told them, “Sorry, but the boss won’t approve anything that risks your protection, so you’re going to have to hang tight until we figure out our next move,” neither really cared. They were stuck here indefinitely, and they’d resigned themselves to that as quickly as they did what would come next.

Their movements became stiff and careful by the time they made it back to their home, each moving with cautious purpose. Lucy entered before Tim did. She twisted around to face him, dark eyes bright with intrigue as he pushed the door closed. He twisted the lock for the deadbolt, and the second it clicked into place their eyes locked. He didn’t know which of them snapped first, but they suddenly collided, lips crashing together hard enough that he felt teeth. Her nails scraped against his neck while he clawed at her hips, and then she was in his arms, legs coiled around his waist with the intent to strangle.

The heat was blistering between them, and he slammed her up against a wall in an attempt to steel himself against the madness. All it served to do was force her flush against him, and he groaned headily into her mouth while their tongues battled for dominance. Tim was always intense - unforgiving, brutal – and Lucy wasn’t surprised that this applied to the bedroom as well (metaphorically speaking). She craved every second of it. It made her stronger – made her _feel_ stronger to endure it, match it, rise above it.

She writhed against the wall, forcing her hips to roll against the pin he had on her. Another growl escaped him, his tongue lashing hers erotically. His fingers wound around the shawl she’d wrapped tightly around her neck when they went out, too lazy to apply concealer to her neck tattoo for a brief meeting with their case manager. He ripped the garment off so his lips could lower and taste her, and an embarrassingly low groan escaped her as the kiss seared against her skin. 

She carded her nails up through the back of his hair, encouraging his mouth open while he continued to taste her flesh. The hot swipe of his tongue along the dip between her shoulder and neck had Lucy shivering and squeezing her arms around his shoulders for more. He palmed her hips, fingers daring to reach further back and take ahold of her plump rear. He fell just shy of being utterly lewd, though his lips ventured lower to mouth at her collar and the soft flesh leading toward her sternum. When the U-shaped hem of her T-shirt finally impeded him, he tipped back from the wall. 

Her hands encased both sides of his jaw to guide him back to her lips. Breathlessness didn’t matter as they devoured each other, heady groans slipping through the grind of their tongues and faint brush of teeth against reddening lips. Tim teetered forward carefully. To make their path a little easier, Lucy broke away from his lips to nibble along the sharp edge of his jaw. He groaned, but focused on safely getting them into the master bedroom. Lucy’s lips had just latched around his quickening pulse when he reached the bed. 

The light suction around his pulsing vein had desire jolting through him, and he tossed her onto the mattress before quickly crawling over her. She used her elbows to inch further back on the bed, making room for them both. Their lips crushed together again, his body compressing hers into the soft mattress, making her desperate for more. She arched into him, reveling at the warm press of his palm smoothing up her sides, mapping her curves with his touch while they continued to kiss. When their hips rolled together this time, Tim didn’t pull away. He ground his hardening cock against the crux of her legs for more.

Finally, he pulled back, but it was only so he could reach for the hem of her shirt. Excited, Lucy sat up slightly to aid his pursuit, but when she flopped back to the bed in nothing but a plain black bra, everything stopped. Her heart skipped a beat as Tim’s eyes honed in on the left side of her ribs, and she realized with a fair bit of panic he hadn’t known what she’d done until this second. 

The numbers lining her ribs were still there, only the penmanship had changed. The plain, lazy curves of the date had been sharpened with points and made to look almost medieval in style. Where the ‘DOD’ had been, however, had changed entirely. A bed of fluffy pink flowers and sage leaves now covered the expanse of the area, and atop something else had been written. He couldn’t hope to make it out, but he recognized the carefully drawn lines were characters of a different language. Amazed, he couldn’t help reaching out, his thumb brushing the intersecting lines of the first character.

“It means rebirth in Mandarin,” Lucy voiced, a little choked by the admission. Her lashes fluttered, the threat of tears stinging at her eyes. “And the flowers – um,” she took a breath, before nervously admitting, “they’re plum flowers. They symbolize resilience.” Tim was stunned, and his fingers stilled against her skin as he absorbed the meaning of it all. Their conversation flooded back to him, his plea for her to see herself as a survivor echoing in his head. Apparently she’d taken it to heart, and had chosen to see the mark as a sign of her life, made it into something far more beautiful and full of pride for her heritage.

Blinking out of his trance, he tipped forward and brushed his lips beneath the tattoo. Lucy’s breath hitched, emotion overwhelming her as she arched against the tender touch. His hand encompassed her hip to steady her while he let his lips skim the beautiful tattoo. He kissed the edge of one of the numbers, and Lucy felt a fire spread beneath her skin. The open-mouthed kiss he placed beneath one of the flowers just had her writhing desperately for more. His name escaped her in a whisper, and he finally broke away from his reverence of the tattoo to perch above the beauty herself.

He looked into her eyes, openly vulnerable and impossibly dilated with her desire. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” he told her softly. Her breath hitched, her chest swelling with potent emotions she couldn’t even begin to decipher. All she could understand was how much she needed him in that moment. Surging up, Lucy crushed her lips to his, the original fervor having returned. They groped and clawed at each other, a sudden frenzy to disrobe consuming them both. Tim’s shirt was tossed aside, before fingers fumbled with belt buckles and buttons. 

And then suddenly there was nothing, nothing but them. Their passion slowed again, simmering down to a heady pulse that allowed them to enjoy the sudden planes of skin and muscle exposed to each other. Lucy traced her fingers along his firm chest while his skimmed her bare side and skirted down toward her hip. She caressed over his chiseled abs and toward his rigid cock, flushed and angry with pent up desire. Heart pounding erratically in her chest, she brushed her fingers along the smooth edge.

The quiet gasp that ghosted against her jaw encouraged her into gripping her fingers around his impressive girth. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her temple, allowing himself a moment to relish in the way her gentle fingers stroked him. He tilted her head so he could capture her lips in another passionate kiss a moment later, and slowly pressed forward until she dipped back to the mattress. Her hold on him momentarily broken, he let his dilated blue eyes flicker down the expanse of her body. His lips followed quickly after.

Chaste kisses fluttered over her clavicle and sternum, each gentle brush of skin making Lucy tingle from head to toe. When Tim finally wrapped one of his calloused hands around her pert breast and wrapped his mouth around the already budded nipple, she gasped. Her core pulsed with desire, and she arched her back against his hold as he suckled her flesh. A brief scrape of teeth against the sensitive peak elicited a sharp cry, causing her to writhe beneath him as his opposite hand thumbed at her neglected nipple.

He switched sides quickly, warming her dry skin with his hungry tongue, while his other hand kneaded into her supple flesh. Lucy felt her entrance slicking, and her knees pressed together underneath him to try and contain her desire. She never wanted him to stop feasting on her flesh, and yet she needed so much more, she felt almost agonized from the ache in her abdomen, a constant reminder that she was empty and needed to be filled.

Her desperate, panting breaths told Tim of her yearning, and he trailed further down, fingers caressing her toned torso reverently as his lips worshiped her soft skin. For as harsh and demanding as Tim could be, he had a soft side Lucy knew well. She’d only ever managed to pull forth glimpses of it, and he’d done his damnedest to ensure it stayed that way, because he knew what it meant if he succumbed to the pull she had on his heart. His capacity to care plunged far deeper than anyone knew, because he kept his prickly walls up to ensure he wouldn’t drown.

Now, he brushed his lips against the velvety skin protecting Lucy’s slit and knew he wanted to drown in her. His lust-blown eyes flickered toward her flushed face, her lips parted in shock and anticipation. He dipped a finger into her folds, testing, mapping, before he felt her flesh give and slipped inside her wet walls. She gasped, the sound so beautiful in the painfully still room. His finger plunged in to his second knuckle, before he pried her lips apart with his other hand and set his own to her skin. 

As his tongue languidly licked at her clit, he slipped a second finger inside and pushed a little deeper. She cried out, encouraging him on. Never in his life did Tim think he’d end up eating out his damn rookie, but he couldn’t well stop himself now. She tasted divine, and the juices pouring onto his fingers each time he stroked through her heated walls only made his own desire skyrocket. The pulse of his fingers quickened, his tongue pressed harder against her clit, shooting pulses of white-hot pleasure through her system. Her breathing grew erratic, desperate, and before she could help it, bliss overwhelmed her system.

Her back arched, body tensing as her cunt trembled around his fingers. He didn’t slow, fingering her through her rushing orgasm, tongue lapping at the juices that escaped her. He only drew his fingers out so his tongue could plunge in, tasting her properly and causing her to buck against the blistering intrusion. One hand pinned her leg to the bed to keep her still while he drank his fill, and his other hand drifted higher to gently caress over her sensitized nub. “Tim,” she gasped desperately, vision blurring as she bucked helplessly against the onslaught to her system. He didn’t heed the warning, because Tim Bradford never did anything half-assed. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth was back over her clit, fingers twisting inside of her all over again.

“Oh my God. Oh my God, _oh my God_ ,” she cried out, writhing when his tongue massaged slow circles against her pleasure center, and a third finger slipped inside her, stretching her walls and filling her so sinfully. She still wanted _more_ , her body aching for his cock, but then his fingers pushed against her g-spot, and Lucy came undone all over again. When her body finally stopped quaking, Tim sat up, breathless himself. He licked his lips, slicked with her climax, reveling in the taste before wiping his mouth more properly against his shoulder. She watched his skin glisten with her and struggled to take a breath, when she watched his eyes drift away, searching out something in the room.

She realized what he must be looking for when he honed in on his jeans.

“I-“ her voice hitched in her throat. His gaze landed on her intently, and she cleared her throat to say, “I’m on birth control. I have been for years, and didn’t want that changing just because we came here.” His eyes widened slightly as he realized what she was suggesting. Her cheeks heated, but she continued rambling, “And I’m clean. I always get checked with my routine exam. Uh-“

He sat there on his knees for several moments, brain trying to process. For whatever reason, the absence of a condom made this seem suddenly more terrifying. Like it was… more. Lucy started to get nervous, which broke Tim out of his stunned state. He moved for her, hovering over her with one hand planted against the mattress. The other smoothed over the tattoo at her side. 

“Do you wanna be on top?” he murmured, eyes searching her face for an answer. Shocked, Lucy blinked, and felt tears well in her eyes. She smiled, her heart aching with affection for his contemplative care. She sat up, touched her fingers to his cheek and rested her forehead against his. Fingers stroking against the side of his face, she kissed him before shaking her head against his.

“N-no. I like feeling you around me,” she whispered, before she used her grip against him to pull him further over her. He followed, situating himself between her legs as she eased back against the bed. For a moment, he just pressed himself against her, his firm body compressing her smaller figure. He watched her, testing to make sure she was okay. When all she did was stretch her neck toward him, eyes glittering desirously, he eased down and captured her lips in an impassioned kiss. Their tongues brushed together fervently, the slow grind full of longing and affection. 

He finally tipped up, holding himself upright on one arm so his hand could wrap around his neglected cock and hold it steady. Lucy’s legs shifted further apart, one knee bending upward to help ease his guide to her entrance. He pressed the bulbous head of his cock against her, and then glanced up at her face as he pressed himself forward. Her lips parted on a gasp that he reciprocated, her slippery, tight flesh enveloping him inch by blissful inch. Exhaling slowly, he let his hand fall to the mattress to steady himself until he sunk into her warm, wet center to the hilt.

For a second he just stayed there, lingering over her close enough that their breaths mingled in the small space between them. Lucy trembled, adjusting to being so full and so connected to him. Then, she sighed, sinking into the euphoric feeling. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, leg hiking around his waist, and he moved. Languid at first, he rolled against her, the slow drag of his cock against her flexing insides creating a friction so sweet, he could easily grow addicted. He collapsed to his elbows, a heated breath ghosting over her jaw before she ensnared him in a lewd kiss. His own core twisted with desire as their tongues ground together as wet and wild as their bodies did, and he succumbed to the chase in his veins.

His speed picked up, hips rocking into hers, his cock thrusting deep and hard into her inviting body. She panted, mewled, and cried out her pleasure as her nails bit into his skin and stroked through his dampening hair. If their lips weren’t connected in a kiss, they were mouthing at each other’s jaws or necks. His fingers groped at her chest again, reveling in the soft mound of her breast while she clawed as his arms, or let herself feel the flex of his abs each time he bucked into her. The increasing volume and frequency of her moans told him she was close again, and he was right there with her, the pleasure cloying into something more potent and consuming.

When she came, his name was on her lips. Not _Chuck_ , or Sir, but a beautifully reverent, “Tim!” He slammed into her as she clenched around him, an agonized groan escaping him as his gut clenched and his cock pulsed with his orgasm. The pleasure blinded them both, until they crashed back to reality with panting breaths and sweaty skin. He struggled to keep himself upright as he dipped his forehead to hers, savoring the aftermath of all their pent up want. 

Somehow, he managed to slip beside her, though she remained half under him and he kept his arm tightly wound around her. They kissed chastely, the tenderness of the moment weighing heavy on both their sluggish forms. When he opened his eyes to look at her, he found her staring at him with the same open admiration in her dark eyes, as well as the same understanding that now settled itself inside his core.

Nothing was every going to be the same, and he almost didn’t mind.


	11. Idle Bliss Isn't Bound To Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So…” she finally murmured, trailing off quickly as she mulled over her words another moment. “Should we talk about this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii. Long time no see! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. Life's been a bit crazy lately and its affected my creativity in weird ways. I'm hoping to be able to post the last 2 chapters more regularly from here though :)
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone reading and leaving kudos or commenting. It means the world to know you're all enjoying this fic!

They laid beside each other for a long time, comfortably silent. After a long while, Lucy shifted her head to look at him, his cheek compressed into the pillow with him still lying on his stomach. His arm remained slung over her navel, and she caressed her fingers over his forearm absently. “So…” she finally murmured, trailing off quickly as she mulled over her words another moment. “Should we talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Tim asked, his tone weary and relaxed in a way she’d never heard before. Taking a breath, he stifled a yawn as he tipped onto his side and brought his hand, thumb brushing against the silver band on his left ring finger. “We’re already married, aren’t we?” he teased dryly. Both of them laughed airily at the joke, and it left a happy smile lingering on Lucy’s lips.

“God, this is pretty crazy, isn’t it?” she marveled a moment later, the surreal absurdity of it all striking her. Tim hummed his agreement. She shifted her head again to re-focus her attention on his thoughtful expression. “I still don’t regret it,” she pointed out, maybe a bit more forcefully than she needed to. More than anything, right now she needed Tim to know she didn’t regret any of it – not the drug bust, or the witness protection, and especially not this. 

Blinking, he relaxed himself from the idle stretch he’d been in to look at her, and offered a small smile. “Me neither,” he agreed, before mischief twinkled in his steely blue gaze. “Now are you done being such a girl about this?” he drawled, purposefully being sexist to get a rise out of her, and it worked like a charm.

“Whu-?!” Lucy chirped, her expression slack with appall. Tim laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners with how wide his humorous smile grew. She rolled on top of him, pushing him onto his back while her fingers dug toward his sides to tickle him. He laughed, both from his taunt and the squeamish sensation bombarding his abdomen. Lucy’s giggle was just the icing on the cake, making his heart flutter even as his hands engulfed her forearms to still her assault on his nerves.

He quickly flipped them over to better restrain the vixen, their laughter and twinkling eyes slowly fading to something more curious and intimate. Tim marveled at her beauty until a blush started creeping back onto her cheeks from all the scrutiny. Smiling warmly, he dipped forward and pressed his lips to hers again, the slight ache in his bruised flesh a relished feeling. He quickly kissed her again, the embrace deepening as his weight sunk over her, and a lewd groan escaped her into their lip lock.

As they made love again, Lucy realized Tim was right. There wasn’t really anything to talk about with how easily they fell into each other. Shedding their former identities had been necessary months ago, but with the reality of their indefinite status here and what they’d just done ( _kept_ doing, as Lucy’s over-stimulated nerves started protesting against), they forced their clinging fingers to let go of what they’d lost. Instead, they fully held on to each other, embracing the possibilities of what both had ignored and suppressed for far too long.

The only thing Tim really asked after they were spent and weary was, “Do you want to start sleeping in here?” She did, and so their comfortable domesticity fell to a new level of intimacy. It wasn’t really all that different, and yet was _so_ much better. To wake with his arms around her, have the freedom to run her fingers over his flesh, hug him, kiss him, and reach out for him whenever she wanted, there was no greater bliss.

It was distracting, however. 

In the middle of breakfast, Tim found his thumb brushing affectionately against Lucy’s jaw, and the next thing he knew, he had her sitting against the table with his tongue tasting the blueberries on her lips from the muffin she’d been eating. While finishing up a batch of laundry, Lucy’s eyes would trail over Tim’s delectable physique, and then she found her fingers pushing his shirt up, lips brushing along the seam of his boxers until his cock twitched in his sweats. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and Lucy shockingly found that translated into public.

Suddenly, their late night bonfires with their coupled group of friends had them snuggling atop their blanket. Tim often slung his arm around her waist at barbecues, and Lucy didn’t hesitate to peck his jaw before she went to grab a refreshment or snack. Their cover story thrived more than ever now that they weren’t towing some nefarious tightrope between the past and present. Their neighbors and friends cooed over them, and it seemed funny to the ex-cops that they could so easily embody a young married couple in love.

Funny, but not farfetched. Lucy couldn’t bring herself to say it (she didn’t want to rock the boat in another terrifying way), but she suspected she was in love with Tim. She probably had been for a while, and didn’t want to see it – didn’t really want to face it now, truth be told. It left a jittery feeling in her veins, and had her looking at Tim like some star-struck teenager meeting her celebrity crush. And when he met her stare with twinkling eyes and a warm half smile, her heart fluttered spectacularly. 

Seven months somehow blew by. 

Winter in Wisconsin sucked, and Tim was glad it was finally coming to an end. As an LA kid, he wasn’t used to snow, and even after months of dealing with heavy snowfall, he sneered at the slosh his work boots trudged through. His hands were always cold and lips chapped from the biting winds, and he was so sick of huddling inside thick coats, scarves, and beanies. A significant beard now covered his jaw to help, and his hair had lengthened to a messy array of spikes. He pulled his beanie off to run his hand through the thickened locks with a heavy sigh.

He was always exhausted now, and in a way he never had been before. Being a cop had been worthwhile, fulfilling work. While physically exhausting, it had fed his soul with purpose and contentment. Living this life, working in a boring hardware store with little to do but ring up customers and restock the shelves… it caused bone deep and soul draining fatigue. But the trade off? His home life was warmer and more soothing than ever before. 

His shoulders relaxed every time he walked through their door, the rustic accommodations truly feeling like theirs after almost a year here. They had new pictures sitting on shelves and hanging on the wall, of cheesy smiles at picnics for just the two of them and candid photos the older folks caught of them making moon eyes at each other. The master room was now an even collection of their things, evidence of them strewn about every inch of the space. It smelled of them, and every once in awhile Tim caught a whiff of Lucy’s shampoo permeating through the bathroom. 

He never failed to pause and savor the scent.

If their case manager had any sense of what went on between them behind closed doors, she kept it to herself. And outside of a single scare they’d had a month ago, everything had been smooth sailing. Their scorpion tattoo guy came back, walked into Lucy’s bar and stared a little too long. Uncomfortable, she’d called Tim before confronting the man. They walked up together to ask what his business was.

Turned out he was just a trucker that thought Lucy looked like a TV star he liked, but was too shy to confront her about it. Whoops.

“Maybe we’re a little paranoid,” Lucy had chuckled with him later. Even now, all this time later, they held a certain amount of suspicion any times eyes crossed over them. Outside of each other, however, it went unnoticed by the town. They’d become embraced staples of the town, the local ‘cute couple’ everyone fawned over and strived to be like. That was funny to them, too, but Tim’s heart sometimes ached with his affection for Lucy, so he couldn’t really complain about his doting husband visage. 

He walked into the bar Lucy worked at one early March evening and smiled upon seeing her tease a couple of regulars sitting before her at the counter. They paused their bantering as he walked closer, and one of the three men hooted, “Oh! If it isn’t the Mister Handyman himself.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Tim asked, looking from the trio of older gentleman to Lucy. She huffed a little and tipped her head at him. She’d let her hair grow out since arriving. It was now at the length it once had been in LA, though she kept up with the black dye and still straightened it most days.

“Pete here was just telling me how you conned him into buying a state of the art drill when he wanted a good old fashioned hammer and screwdriver set,” Lucy said, amusement coating her tone.

“Hey!” Tim chastised, pointing a finger toward an already cackling Pete. “Mark my words, Sir. That drill is going to change your life.” Pete laughed for another moment, before one of his companions held up an empty glass.

“Another one, Sweetheart?”

“Sure.” Lucy took the glass from the man, and walked down the bar toward the fridge his beer choice was stored in. Tim watched her, the twinkle in his eye so obvious the blue collar folk huffed at him.

“Ought to invite the missus to your store when I’m there next. Keep you too distracted from sellin’ me shit,” Pete said while lifting his half-drank beer to his lips. Tim’s steely eyes slanted toward him before he scoffed.

“Yeah, right. I’d just sell everything to you double the price,” Tim shot back, causing one of the men to chuckle. Lucy returned and set the beer down on the counter. She turned to Tim then and smiled.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes, if you want to keep the car warm,” she suggested.

“Sure,” Tim agreed, bowing over the counter to first near her. The bright smile that bloomed across her face had an identical one gracing Tim’s lips, before the two set their grins together in a chaste, but passionate kiss.

“D’aw,” Pete cooed as they drew back. Tim pointed a finger at him.

“I mean it, Pete. Double price next time,” he warned, before he twisted around and headed out the door. Lucy huffed and shook her head, but her cheeks glowed with a rosy hue. Her heart fluttered a little as she focused on cleaning the counter and rinsing the last of the glasses she had to clean. Once she finished her end of duty chores, she waved goodbye to her coworker and customers, and jogged out the door.

The parking lot, like most of the roads, had been plowed, but random mounds of snow still dotted the blacktop. She blew out a fogged breath and nuzzled deeper into her thick infinity scarf, hands in her puffy coat’s pockets. She moved around the side of the building, where Tim usually parked. She skipped around the back of the truck and smiled as she reached the passenger door. When she opened it and started to greet Tim, however, she immediately paused. 

Her dark eyes widened a little as she took in the empty driver’s side, glass peppered across the seat. She immediately closed her door and walked around the other side, surveying the broken window. Her boots crunched atop more shards of glass, but she studied the mess intently in search of more evidence. A few droplets of blood had her breath rattling.

Impulsively, she reached for her hip, only to pause at the surreal realization that she didn’t have a gun. 

Swallowing, she looked around the parking lot frantically, legs jerking her forward without any real direction from her brain. “Tim?” she called out, stupid and impulsive. She couldn’t worry about cover names when her heart hammered a mile a minute. As she walked along the row of cars nearest to the truck, she spotted a pair of thick work boots sticking out from between two cars.

“Tim?!” she called, panicked, rushing toward the limp legs in utter fear of what she’d find. She rounded the corners and bowed forward without thinking, only to startle back when a man she’d never seen before suddenly sat up and pointed a gun at her face.

“Surprise,” he growled, before pain suddenly shot through the back of Lucy’s head as another clocked her with a crowbar. She toppled to the ground instantly, dazed and nearly blacked out. The first man cracked the butt of his gun against her cheek to finish knocking her out before he mused, “The Montgomery’s are really looking forward to meeting you.” 

As one lifted from the ground, the other collected Lucy’s limp form in his arms. Two cars over, they opened a trunk, and dumped her in the back to join an already unconscious and bound Tim. Once they had both her wrists and ankles locked together with zip-ties like her lover, they slammed the trunk closed and peeled out of the parking lot, heading far away from River Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no I did a bad thing lmfao. D: Poor Lucy. Just got over a kidnapping trauma and now here she is again T_T At least she has Tim this time though, huh? Stay tuned to see how our fave couple handles this one!


	12. We Are Warriors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Montgomery Family caught up, and there's hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii. I know, I'm sorry, I'm the worst. I didn't mean to leave this chapter hanging for so long. My life did NOT get less hectic as I'd expected, and this chapter was just too heavy to deal with through all that. And I wanted to get it right... but enough excuses. I hope it was worth the wait, and thank you all SO much for reading and your patience with me.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Violence and Gore

Tim came to as violently as he’d been rendered unconscious. Body bound and slammed back into a chair, he jarred awake and immediately groaned. His head throbbed, worse when light suddenly flooded his vision as they ripped the black cloth bag from over his head. As his eyes fruitlessly tried to adjust and un-blind themselves, he took stock of everything else he could.

Ropes bit into his wrists, which were tied behind his back. He twisted them and felt his skin burn. When he tried to move his legs, he found them in a similar snag. Not that his body was of much use yet, but that’d prove problematic if he wanted to try and make a move later. Figures finally came into focus. A dozen men stood before him, most burly, some muscular, and two dressed in prominent suits at the forefront.

To his right, Lucy sat in another chair, mirroring his bound and hobbled position.

His gut finally twisted with fear.

She looked back at him, her eyes glassy from the blow that had bruised her cheek, but the same terrified understanding reflected in her expression.

“We’ve been looking for you two for quite awhile,” one of the suited men spoke. Hugo, Tim recalled. Aged as he was, he still had a youthful strength to his jaw and narrowed eyes. He stood tall in his suit, cavalier despite the anger obviously tensing his still developed muscles. His head was bald, but that didn’t stop him from smoothing his splayed hand against the pale flesh. Behind him, Lawrence scratched at his beard, his other hand twisting around a crowbar eagerly.

Tim twisted his arms again, and Lucy felt about her bindings with her fingers as they assessed the no-win scenario. Their captors didn’t seem to mind the silence. Hugo laughed humorlessly to fill it.

“I thought I’d be more satisfied to see your faces, but honestly… I’m just tired,” Hugo said. He rounded the open space before their chairs and approached a giant steel basin in the middle of the room. “Tired of searching the FBI’s false leads. Tired of gutting through one after the other until I found my way to you,” he said, while hauling a head out from the basin. Bloodied and ghoulish, he tossed it carelessly toward the two cops. It flopped wetly and rolled closest to Lucy, where through the terrorized expression frozen by death and blood, she saw their case manager, Morgan. 

“Oh God,” Lucy moaned, eyes wide and throat hacking sickly. Hugo walked up to her swiftly, hand gripping beneath her chin. Her jerked her head up so he could look into her horrified gaze, his fingers pinching into her cheeks to keep her mouth open. 

“That’s exactly how I looked when I buried my son,” he snarled. Despite the pain his grip caused, Lucy scoffed.

“We didn’t kill him. That was you,” she snapped. Hugo sneered at her. His hand fell away from her face, only to backhand her a beat later. The slap stung her cheek, but his pinky ring made her chin throb with renewed vigor.

“Don’t touch her!” Tim barked. Hugo tipped his head as he looked across at Tim.

Huffing, he mused, “Oh. I see. Alright.” It took two steps for him to reach Tim, and that long to slip on the bronze knuckles he had in his slacks’ pocket. Tim sucked in a breath and steeled himself when Hugo’s arm cocked back. He could take a beating. It was a sad truth of his life, but he’d been groomed for brutality from a young age. His father’s knuckles had never been encased in metal though, and it wasn’t a weapon he often came in contact on the job.

He felt like his brain rattled in his skull when Hugo slammed his fist into the side of his face. The pain was excruciating and immediate, and it only worsened when those knuckles slammed into his stomach. Before he could even catch his breath, another blow connected with his ribs. His body cowed, pain radiating through his bones when Hugo got carried away and slammed his other fist – thankfully free of metal – into Tim’s jaw. 

“No – stop!” Lucy shrieked.

“Shut up, Boot,” Tim grunted, spitting blood after the words left him. Hugo chuckled at them.

“Kinky pet name,” Hugo said. 

“You’re not gonna get away with this,” Tim said, steady as he could given his stunted breaths. He managed to spit out another wad of blood before Hugo set a palm to his forehead and tipped his head back. He couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him as his body protested the movement, his ribs flaring with pain and head spinning. He blinked widly, but managed to focus on Hugo’s shrewdly wrinkled face once he bowed to Tim’s eye level. Coal black eyes leered at him hatefully.

“Oh, what? You think you’ve got something up your sleeve here, hm? You think we didn’t check you for the wire you had snared up in your collar? Or didn’t find the tracker you slipped on my guy before they hauled you in the car?” Hugo asked, searching Tim’s glassy eyes. He sucked in a breath, startled but trying not to show it. Hugo sensed it anyway and flashed a humorless smile. “You’re out of options, Pig.” 

“You can’t get away with killing two cops.”

“Oh, but we have for years. Lawrence there killed the first two that managed to arrest our uncle. We both dealt with the pair that took our cousin to prison. Jackie was special to both of us, you know? But none of them - _none_ of them hurt us the way you two have. My own boy.” Hugo shook his head, rage blazing in his eyes as one of his goons handed a long, slender, curved knife to him. He held it up, and then set it against Tim’s cheek.

Tim felt the cold steel seep into his skin, and for all his years on the force, he swallowed.

Hugo smiled.

“I’m gonna carve you up and feed you to my dogs for what you did to my boy,” Hugo promised. The metal smoothed up his beard, and curled past his eye so Hugo could wave it thoughtfully. “But first, I think I’ll let you see what we have in store for your little lady.” Lucy screeched then as Lawrence wrenched her up from her chair by her hair. She thrashed how she could, trying to wriggle away when another man came to help Lawrence.

“Lucy – Lucy.” Tim strained against his own bindings, leaning toward her. Lawrence slammed his fist into Lucy’s stomach to get her to stop squirming. “No! I said stay the fuck away from her- _ugh_ -” Tim’s breath spluttered from him when Hugo’s bronze knuckles slammed into his side again.

“Tim!” Lucy cried, both growing more panicked and desperate by the second. They tasted death multiple times on the job, but every once in awhile a final moment came. When things felt hopeless, and they knew they stared the Grim Reaper in the face. 

Before the proverbial scythe could fall, however, a gun fired. 

Shouting followed, and then the warehouse they were in fell into open fire and chaos. Lucy dropped to the ground as the men grappling with her turned their sights toward the commotion. Tim just managed to glimpse S.W.A.T. gear before Hugo fell back into him when a rifle bullet plunged through his shoulder. They both tipped over and sprawled to the floor, Tim cussing in pain when the ropes binding him snared harder. 

As soon as it started, it seemed to end. Armored policemen swarmed the area the Montgomery family had once occupied, arresting all left breathing in the carnage.

“Wh-what? How?” Lucy breathed, beady eyes flickering around their saviors. She caught sight of Agent Richards, and her jaw dropped. He smiled easily, despite the haggard look of Lucy. 

“We finally got an agent deep enough in the Montgomery family to make some headway,” he said, before his smile faded a little as he looked across the room. “Couldn’t get to Morgan in time, but our guy managed to get included in this.” He nodded to their undercover agent, who was pulling his long-sleeved shirt off to get to the wire he had on beneath his clothes. That brought Richards’ smile back. “With Bradford getting Hugo to talk about the cops they’ve killed, we might actually get to put many of these guys behind bars. And now you two can go home.”

“Tim-“ Lucy’s eyes immediately searched him out. Her chest heaved when she spotted him. His chair had been propped up, and two armored men were working to release his bindings. Her own gave way thanks to another cop, and she didn’t think before she scrambled up. Her wrists burned and the side of her face throbbed, but it meant little against the bruising and blood she saw on Tim’s face.

“Tim,” she cried, caving to her knees once she reached him. Her hands flew out to grip toward his shoulders, and his hands encompassed her biceps as he joined her in kneeling before his chair. He groaned a little, his breath hitching as his ribs flared with pain again, but that didn’t stop him from bowing his forehead against Lucy’s.

“It’s okay, Luce. We’re okay now,” he said, sighing as the words sunk in for him, too. She choked a little, tears glittering in her eyes as her hands found their way toward his neck. She couldn’t help it, and despite their company, and in spite of the blood slicking part of Tim’s lips, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him. _We’re going home_ be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, Tim and Lucy are going home! So very exciting, and a little bit scary still, but at least these two babies made it through the big bads. 
> 
> Thanks again for all your support <3


	13. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ almighty. Thank you all for waiting for me to finish this story. I won't bore you with the details, but I definitely struggled to get this out. I'm really happy with it though, so I hope it's a fulfilling end.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading my story and going on this journey with me <3

They didn’t go back to Los Angeles immediately. Apparently reinstating their old lives took longer than demolishing them had, though neither Tim nor Lucy complained. For the first few days, Tim was in the hospital anyway, recovering from the beating Hugo had given him. He had two broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone. Once the swelling went down, they sent him home to recuperate the rest of the way.

 _I’m going to miss this place,_ he thought as he looked around the little rustic cabin. Excited as he was to go back to his life in LA, he had memories here now – a home. He watched Lucy mosey around their living room, humming quietly under her breath, and wondered how he was supposed to get used to her not being there. 

Neither of them mentioned it. The elephant remained silent and ignored between them as they savored the time they had left, the quiet bliss of the life they’d built. They watched TV gingerly snuggled together, ate their meals with intimate chatter, and took little adventures around the place they’d come to know over the last year. They soaked up every second of freedom they had to hold hands, kiss, and simply lay in each other’s arms. 

They continued to feign ignorance as their last day in the house ticked on, but the second they ventured into the bedroom, the tension rose. They hadn’t had sex because of Tim’s ribs, but as their gazes met, they both knew that abstinence wasn’t going to last. Tim lifted his hand to cup the side of Lucy’s face. He caressed her skin and searched her dark, dilating eyes. 

She tipped her chin up, and he dipped to press his lips to hers. He inhaled her scent through his nose, savored her taste as the kiss deepened and their tongues brushed together. Lucy’s moan filled his mouth, and he moved his hand to the back of her neck to draw her in closer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, body arching into his carefully. The simple brush of skin and teasing graze of cloth had his cock swelling, anticipation drugging him with lust.

They stripped their clothes and moved toward the bed. As they settled and Tim reached for her, Lucy set a hand against his bare chest. “Let me take care of you,” she murmured. He huffed, a smile flickering over his lips. It took her pushing against his chest, but he caved and settled on his back, head resting against their pillows. She crawled over him for a moment so she could connect their lips in a tender kiss.

When she pulled back, her nails traced down his torso. His breath stuttered, lashes fluttering as he watched her lower to kiss beneath his collarbone. She licked a line across his chest, and bit into his well-muscled pec. He groaned a little, and had to force his body still as Lucy grazed the edge of his opposite nipple with her nails. She continued her trek down his body, his cock hard and twitching long before she reached it. 

When she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and pressed her tongue under the head without warning, he gasped her name. Desire licked up him in hot waves as her mouth enveloped him wholly, tongue slicking his velvety skin as she bobbed over his impressive length. Another groan ripped from deep in his throat. His hand massaged into her hair as she dragged her lips against him, tongue swirling over his head every time she pulled up. His toes tingled with pleasure, and all his wit rendered to a crass, “Fuck, Lucy.”

His fingers tightened in her hair, and he pulled her off before she made him come way before he wanted. Lips red and puffy, Lucy gave him the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. She kept her hand wrapped around the base of his cock as she pushed onto her knees and straddled his waist. It was only as she lined herself up with him that he noticed how wet she was, a few fingers from her other hand glistening in the dim light.

“Jesus,” he growled, realizing she’d been pleasuring herself the whole time. She laughed, before both of them lost their breath as her warm, wet center sank onto his spit-slicked cock. When their hips sunk together, Lucy rolled her hips to nestle him in deeper. The blissful friction had him groaning, and she felt herself throb around him. Her heart thrummed along with her body, all that she felt for Tim pouring into the gentle way she rode him. 

Her fingers skimmed his ribs, feeling his breath quicken for pleasure instead of pain. Eyes twinkling, her smile spread at how dark the desire was in his gaze, the way his lips parted from the euphoria steadily growing inside both their bones. A moan tore from her when she sunk down on him at a slightly different angle, and she pitched forward to cause the trilling sensation again. 

His hands smoothed from her hips to her plump rear, and he squeezed his fingers into her flesh to help punctuate each bounce of her hips. Heat coiled inside of her, pleasure throbbing through her center and making her breath stutter. She planted her hands on the bed beside his head, and as she bowed toward him, he tilted his chin up to meet her lips in a searing kiss. Between their frenzy for each other and the deluge of emotions surrounding their final night in another life, both came abruptly. Bliss overwhelmed their beings, and left them a panting, sweaty tangle of limbs in its wake. 

They savored the euphoric aftermath for awhile. Lucy eased beside Tim, their arms and legs tangled together. Eventually, the tranquil silence had to be broken. “What’s gonna happen with us when we go back?” Lucy asked. She couldn’t meet his eyes as her fingers toyed dangerously close to the silver wedding band circling his finger. He flexed his hand, steely blue eyes looking at his ring before his fingers wrapped around hers.

“I don’t know. I suppose we take it day by day… get our footing back on the force, and then figure out where we can stand.”

“But we will?” Lucy sat up finally and looked into his stormy eyes. “Figure out how to be together, I mean,” she asked, voice wavering with nerves. Her heart pounded, hope and heartbreak warring inside her. Tim offered her a half-smirk, convincing save for the fact that it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course,” he promised.

He wanted to believe that, but he couldn’t uncoil his uncertainty. He’d already been married to another cop. He knew how badly these things could turn. Lucy was nothing like Isabel, but the job still did everything it could to break a person some days. 

And he and Isabel had at least started on even ground. Studied at the Academy together, started as rookies together, moved up at the same time. But in the end, they got away with their relationship because they worked at different precincts. With Lucy it was more complicated. Even if one of them moved precincts, he’d always be her senior – likely always be her superior. It didn’t sit well with him… 

But nothing about this situation did.

~*~

Back in LA, Tim went home, and Lucy went to… a hotel. Her apartment was no longer under her name, so the police department set her up with accommodations until she could find a place to live. Despite being exhausted after the flight, and the debriefing, and getting all checked into her temporary room, Lucy was restless. She paced for awhile, mind running through a thousand things she wanted to do.

And then a knock resounded on her door. She froze, heart skipping a beat as she stared at the wood. She wasn’t expecting any visitors, and her latest encounter with a serious criminal had put her senses back on edge. No one should’ve known where she was, save for the department, which was the only reason she approached the door. When she looked through the peephole, she gasped.

“Jackson,” she said once she opened the door. Emotions welled, quicker when he rushed forward and crushed her in a hug. She squeezed him back just as tightly, her eyes closing over a surge of tears. “How did you find me?”

“My dad told me,” her old roommate and best friend said. When he pulled back, his eyes were just as watery. He couldn’t unwind his hands from around her arms, and she didn’t for a second think of shrugging him off. She just searched his kind face, more than a little surprised he was standing there. 

“He broke protocol for this?” Lucy asked. Jackson huffed, a sad half-smile quirking his lips.

“You didn’t see how much of a wreck I was last year,” he muttered. Lucy’s heart ached as Jackson lowered his eyes, the pain still evident on his face. Swallowing, she pulled him into another fierce hug, the comfort of his presence exactly what she hadn’t known she needed. “God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured into her hair.

“Me too,” she whispered back. 

It took them a few minutes to disentangle, but once they did Lucy stepped back so he could enter the hotel room. She called for a bottle of champagne from room service, and settled onto the bed with Jackson. The TV was on in the background, but neither paid attention – too engrossed in each other’s company to care.

“Sorry about the apartment,” Jackson said, pursing his lips. “I just couldn’t stay there with everything…”

“It’s alright.” She set her hand atop his to promise she meant it. He smiled and squeezed her hand.

“So what happened?” he asked after a moment. Dropping her hand from his, Lucy looked away.

“I don’t know if I should talk about it.”

“Oh now you _have_ to talk about it.” Huffing, Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Well then, _that_ is going to take a lot of champagne.” They waited for the bottle to arrive, and drank 2 glasses full before Lucy was able to share all that had happened during their time in Wisconsin. She didn’t hold back either. Couldn’t for the life of her. Straight and narrow as Jackson could be, she knew he’d never betray her trust, and she _needed_ to talk to someone about it.

Still, when she finished she couldn’t quite meet his eye. She stared at her champagne glass instead, watching her nails trace the shape. Jackson couldn’t speak for a second either, and when he did, all he could say at first was, “Wow.” Arms holding his crossed legs up a bit, he considered the situation for another moment before asking, “So what’s gonna happen now?”

“I don’t know. He says we should take it day by day for now, figure out our footing at work before figuring out the rest,” Lucy said, trying to keep her face neutral. She felt Jackson’s gaze boring through her façade. 

“Do you agree?”

“It’s probably the smartest option.”

“But you miss him.”

“I miss being a cop, too.”

“Yeah…” Jackson murmured with a nod. “Are they gonna let you start where you left off last year?”

“As long as I pass the physical and written exams tomorrow, yeah.” Jackson nodded, relieved for her, but Lucy couldn’t feel the same elevation. She looked at him, mourning the fact that she was so behind – that she’d lost so much time, and might lose what she’d gained in that interim - despite being happy to be back, and happy for Jackson’s advance in the police force. Mustering a small smile at the latter, she curled closer to him and said, “So? Tell me what I’ve missed with you.”

~*~

Catching up with Jackson had been the perfect way to relax before her first brush with the police force again. Despite knowing she hadn’t gotten ‘rusty’ during her time off, she was still nervous through her exams. It made everything feel more real, and the last year burned through her better than an adrenaline rush as she surged through the course and fired off technical answers.

She passed with flying colors, ensuring her place with Wilshire Station could resume in the next few days. She wasn’t as excited as she thought she’d be, and a lump formed in her throat as she looked around. It was only when she didn’t find who she was looking for that she realized she’d been looking for Tim.

She’d hardly talked to him since returning to LA, and her heart ached with the loss. Before she could think it through, she drove to his house and knocked on the door the night before they were to be fully reinstated. The air felt damp with the threat of rain, and she looked around the dark street until Tim’s stoop light turned on. She squinted, and turned around in time to see him open the door.

The first thing she’d noticed was he cut his beard, though he’d kept the longer length to his ashy brown hair. Her heart pounded as she met his curious blue eyes, her lips parting stupidly as she realized how late it was, and how ill-conceived this idea had been.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she stammered. He blinked, but then drew the door further open and stepped back.

“Come on in.” She smiled awkwardly as she stepped through the threshold, but her expression immediately brightened when someone else rushed her with clacking nails.

“Cujo!” Lucy cooed, dropping to her knees to greet her old dog. His tail wagged incessantly as he curled against her, licking at her chin while her nails massaged into his head and back. She laughed, before she looked up at Tim. “You got him back?”

“Yeah. Sergeant Grey had him, I guess holding onto him in the hopes we’d come back sooner than later.” He smiled a little when Lucy turned her attention back to Cujo.

“Hey buddy,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the top of his head.

“You want some dinner? I have some leftovers,” Tim asked as he headed toward the kitchen.

“No. I’m okay.” She gave Cujo a final pet before she lifted to her feet. Eyes roving over Tim, she tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, at a loss of what to say. He seemed to be in a similar position for once, standing behind his kitchen island. His hands planted to the polished marble. To break the awkward tension building, Lucy said, “So, uh… how have you been?”

“Fine.” The conversation fell flat, and Lucy’s heart almost stopped.

“This is awkward, isn’t it?” she huffed, shoulders held up only because of the position of her hands. Tim let out a breath and searched the counter space before him.

“Yyyyyeah… I wish I could say I didn’t see this coming, but-“

“Yeah,” Lucy murmured, eyes falling to the floor briefly. A moment later, her eyes flickered up to his face and her lips pursed almost coyly. “Two truths and a lie?” The hope that had bled into her question soared when he laughed, a bright, clearly unexpected sound. Her smile bloomed, and just like that some of the uncertainty melted away.

They sat on his couch in the living room, an acceptable amount of space between them as they played the game. Tim lied about liking the meatloaf she’d made one night, and Lucy lied about liking Tim’s beard. The latter sent them both into a fit of giggles, the space between them disappearing as they cowed with laughter.

“I didn’t hate it!” she defended, still laughing over her own bent knees. Tim set his hand against his chest as he leaned against the couch cushions, unable to contain himself. Giggling again, Lucy held her arms out and said, “I don’t know, it’s just… this look suits you better.” She nudged her bare foot against the ticklish spot against his ribs. He lurched and snorted, smothering the offended area with his hand. Lucy leaned over herself a little more, brows lifting incredulously.

“Did you just snort?” she asked, smile spreading mischievously. Tim glared at her, but it was short-lived when her nails dug for his ticklish spot again. “Huh?” she goaded, laughing until Tim shot up and grabbed underneath her calf. With a yelp, Lucy found her back flopping onto the couch as Tim tugged her leg up. She shrieked with a laugh when his other hand moved for her, and she ducked her other knee in to protect herself.

They both realized the position at the same moment. One of her legs nearly over his shoulder while the other was partially pinned under his weight, her lying back against the couch as he leaned over her. It was just too easy between them now, and neither seemed able to move once their faces fell at the realization. Lucy took a few shallow breaths through her opened lips, her eyes searching the deep blue of his gaze. Wrong as this should’ve been, it didn’t feel wrong at all. Sitting there pining for his touch had, and now she just felt…. _better_.

“You know… we’re not technically back on duty until tomorrow,” she murmured, watching his expression carefully. He swallowed. Once, he’d had the strength to resist her. Not now, and selfishly he wanted this too. Part of him broke, treachery invading his veins as he pried Lucy’s other leg outside of his hip, but it hardly mattered. He ached for her, and as he crushed her into the cushions as deeply as his lips ensnared hers, that broken part of him filled with something so exhilarating and pure, he forgot all about it.

They both groaned, their hips gyrating together in a lewd manner that balanced out by the tender way Lucy cupped his shaven jawline. He stroked her hair, caressed her cheekbone, and smoothed his hand up her side in a reverent way that had her heart pounding. Tongues tangled, desire burning through them until a sharp whine snapped them out of the frenzy. They both looked beside the couch to see Cujo watching them, the droopy look about his face eliciting a laugh from each.

Sighing, Tim rolled his eyes at the dog and pitched onto his arms. He came back to himself a bit then, and looked down at Lucy with a more reserved look on his face. “We probably shouldn’t act like a couple of horny teenagers the night before we return-“

“Yeah-“

“-But… come to bed?” He held his hand out, and Tim watched the dismay that almost overtook Lucy dissipate with an awing exuberance. He couldn’t help but smile softly as she sat up and took his hand. When they entered his bedroom, Lucy looked around, amazed to see the intimate side of his life up close. Ash brown quilt, a couple photos on the dresser, a few clothes strewn about the floor. He wasn’t as neat as his demeanor led one to believe, but she knew that already. This space was just _his_ , and she admired it as so. 

He handed her a Rams NFL tee he didn’t mind her sleeping in (in fact, he had a hard time tearing his eyes away from her once she’d changed into it). When they settled under the covers, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her. She sighed, folding against his chest and closing her eyes, the scent of him lulling any lingering tension from her shoulders. His chin tipped to the top of her head, his thumb brushing lazy circles along her spine. The ease and comfort he felt finally having her back in his bed was ironically shadowed by his dilemma with their situation. It left him less ability to sleep than he would’ve liked.

Which is why he left early, before Lucy was even awake. She wasn’t _really_ surprised to wake up to an empty bed, but she was disappointed nonetheless… even if she had no right to be. She went back to her hotel room and got ready for the day, a resigned melancholy overtaking her until she walked into the station. She was stopped short of entering their morning briefing room by John and Jackson, and their warm smiles immediately lit one up on her. 

Before any pleasantries could be said, Nolan held a finger up and said, “For the record, I knew you weren’t dead.” Lucy huffed, her smile growing when Jackson jerked his head back and glared at John pointedly.

“Uh, no you didn’t. You bawled when Sergeant Grey told us,” he accused. Nolan’s head jerked toward the younger cop in the playful way he did when he was trying to sell a joke as truth.

“I was caught off guard. It was very troubling news. But after that, I thought ‘no way. Not Lucy. She’s too smart for that.” He looked at Lucy with a broad smile that melted her heart. She bounced on her feet, unable to contain her affection.

“Aw, you guys. I missed this,” she murmured, reaching forward to hug them each.

“It’s nice to have you back,” Harper drawled as she walked into the room, her sly smile warmer than usual. Her finger waggled at Lucy. “Hasn’t been the same without you and Lopez around.”

“Oh yeah! You said she made detective,” Lucy remembered, looking to Jackson with a smile. “Do you think I’ll get to see her?”

“She said she’d stop by to say hello,” Jackson promised with a nod. 

“Alright, take your seats,” Grey said as he entered the room. When Lucy turned to look, her heart almost leapt out her throat seeing Tim trail the Sergeant. He looked reserved, his jaw clenching briefly as he remained standing behind Grey. “Now, most of you know today is a very special day. Two of our own have returned from a year in witness protection from the Montgomery crime family, who were recently put behind bars. As a result, Officer Bradford and Officer Chen have returned to duty effective today.”

There were a round of applause, to which Grey nodded and participated in. Lucy was shocked to realize she’d missed his almost secretive smiles. With a final nod, Grey called order back to the room and continued. “The news doesn’t stop there. We’ve all had some difficulties over the last year with the absence of a permanent captain. Well… the department is also making it official. I will be Wilshire’s new Captain effective-“ he couldn’t finish when the room erupted in applause and cheer. Grey huffed and bowed his head briefly, soaking up the support for something he was clearly proud of.

“Thank you, thank you!” he finally said, loud enough to quiet the room again. “Now,” he stated, punctuating the word as he looked around the room. His eyes landed on Lucy briefly, and her heart rate started to pick up, senses tingling. “This leaves a Sergeant’s position open at this department. Officer Bradford passed the Sergeant’s exam shortly before he had to go into witness protection.”

 _Oh no,_ Lucy thought, her heart sinking as she realized where this was going. And then she took a deep breath and berated herself, knowing she should be happy for Tim. Grey glanced back at Tim briefly, something silent passing between the two of them, before he said, “However, Bradford has elected not to take the Sergeant’s position at this department. An old colleague of mine who’s the Sergeant at Pacific Station has wanted to transfer for some time, so he will be starting here effective tomorrow… and Bradford will be taking over his Sergeant’s post at Pacific. Harper, you’ll be taking over training Officer Chen through her probationary year’s last 30-days.”

Lucy’s head went into a fog then. She looked at Tim with wide eyes, the expression on his face as he finally met her gaze unreadable. She burned, and after the morning briefing, she marched right up to him. He stilled, jaw clenching briefly as he straightened up.

“You’re not going to finish my training?” she demanded, anger crackling at the edge of her voice.

“I’m not,” Tim said.

“You’re switching departments?”

“I am.”

“You weren’t going to tell me any of this?” She looked like she was about to hit him, their friends and colleagues watching be damned. Before she could move, Tim grabbed her hand, and all the rage she felt popped out of her. She startled a little, eyes wide and lips gaping. And Tim, the devil, smirked.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to get in one last shot at frazzling you before I wasn’t your TO anymore,” he said, smirk going a little lopsided. She huffed, but then he sobered, his smile turning a little warmer as he squeezed her hand. “And I did this so I could ask you out on a date, Lucy Chen. Officially and professionally sound.” Lucy felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest. She almost felt ready to lift off her toes and float away.

Before she could say anything, however, Angela leapt through the doorway and landed beside them. Her startling presence had their hands dropping from each other as she excitedly proclaimed, “Boom! What did I tell you? _Best detective in the world_.” Her husky song ended as she looked back at Jackson, his expression having fallen flat. “You owe me thirty bucks,” she said, pointing at her old rookie. He pouted, but fished the money out and handed it to her. When she caught the others looking at her as she leafed through her new cash, she shrugged and said, “I bet him you wouldn’t make it out of the briefing room before asking Chen on an official date.”

“I didn’t want to make the stupid bet,” Jackson muttered, still pouting. “She practically forced me.” Amused, Nolan clapped his hand against his partner’s shoulder in mock comfort. Tim looked less than amused as he shook his head.

“I didn’t miss you,” he said. Angela’s smile only widened. She leaned in and nudged his shoulder with her own playfully.

“Yeah, I know you did. Beers after work?”

“Only if you’re buying.”

“Hey, from what I just heard, you got a fancy new promotion too, Hot Shot.” She tipped her head and held her arms out in challenge before she walked off, leading the pack of them out of the briefing room. Lucy felt tears prick her eyes, the happiness she felt to be among these people again – her family – too much to contain. When she looked at Tim, at the gentle smile on his face and the light in his eyes, she knew he felt the same. He touched her shoulder, guiding her in place beside him. 

Exactly where she was meant to be.


End file.
